Sequel: Jake's Girl
by Sand5Marlowe
Summary: I guess Jake and Teresa's odyssey isn't over. I'd leave a direct summary but if you read the first one you know how this might go. Lucy has been home now for a couple of weeks, and the tragic events of the previous story has left a fresh scar on Jake. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jake had to admit he enjoyed days like this. The late morning Saturday had rolled in muggy and overcast, imitating the beginnings of winter. Hitting Colorado Springs rather hard, the April showers, had flooded out the roads making it impossible to make it into town. The red clay roads snaked about slick and soggy as a bog. Hanging thick overhead gray storm clouds huddled and spread threatening more rain. Jake inhaled the perfumed air, which was scented with a combination of moist soil and rainwater.

Holding his metal mug of coffee up to his nose, he let the curling tendrils of steam coil up about his face warming it. He sat complacent under the front terrace with his elbows resting on the white wrought iron table. Nudging his toe against the filigreed foot of the table, he began to anxiously await the appearances of his companions. Placing his mug down he raked his long white fingers through his auburn hair with a yawn.

"Today would have been a good day for sleeping in, I think," her voice was smooth as velvet.

Teresa's light fingers caressed the nape of his neck as she passed behind him on her way to the empty chair at his side. She was wearing her burgundy gingham housedress which had a modest v-shaped collar and open bell sleeves. Jake smiled warmly at her as he reached out and ran his fingers through her loose black tresses. Though she had pinned up the top half, the loose bottom cascaded down over her slender shoulders resting at the small of her back in heavy waves.

"What, and miss this?" he grinned crookedly sweeping his hand towards the end of the terrace that wrapped around the other side of the house.

Teresa cocked an eyebrow, slightly puzzled at his meaning. Just then the small clomping footfalls of Lucy's boots darted out, as she ran and jumped feet first off the stairs into a huge puddle of mud. Jake laughed heartily at the look of irritation on Teresa's face as she survey the mud splattered all over the white stairs and up along the golden framing of the terrace fence. Picking up Jake's coffee, she gently blew at the tendrils of steam causing them to fall over the cliff's side of the mug. She took a sip and grimaced at the bitter taste.

"Are we goin into town today?" Lucy asked smacking her mud caked boots into the cobblestone walk before the stairs. She rubbed her small fingers under her nose feeling a minor tenderness.

"Is your nose botherin you?" Jake asked extending his arm to her.

Lucy curled herself into the crook of his arm, taking comfort in the warmth there. She shook her head as he pulled her up onto his lap. Resting her head on his chest, she sighed dreamily as he took to twisting a thick black ringlet around his finger.

"What is on the table for today?" Teresa asked secretly studying Lucy's face for any cause of alarm.

"Guess there's not much we can do," Jake replied observing that the flooding had them trapped in their own house. He too had begun to cast worried glances down at Lucy as she continued to rub at her ever-reddening nose.

Here and there large bellied droplets of rain smacked down on the sloping roof of the house. Jake and Teresa sighed with a growing anxiety as the frequency of the single drops developed into a chorus of rainfall. The curtain of rain became thick sheets of showers that began to blow sideways onto the porch. It hit with such sudden force that the splatters of mud were soon nonexistent. Jake quickly rose with Lucy in his arms as he followed Teresa into the warmth and safety of the house.

The freak storm thundered angrily causing the walls to vibrate. Lucy in a rush of excitement plastered her face to the front windows as flash after flash of rapid fire lightening struck in the distance. Teresa placed her hands protectively on Lucy's shoulders.

"I have never seen lightening do that," she turned casting a worried glance at Jake.

Determined not to cause a stir, Jake bent on one knee before the brownstone fireplace and removed the black iron grate. With the fire poker in hand, he prodded at the orange glowing embers, stoking the sizzling flames. Replacing the iron grate, he pressed his thumb into his cheek as he took stock of the waist high pile of firewood, on the side mantle. It would last through to night, he told himself as another crack of lightening struck the weather vane out in the middle of Teresa's herb garden.

Teresa herded a reluctant Lucy away from the danger of the window. She watched Jake, as he stood focused on the fire with his hands resting on his narrow hips. With Lucy already halfway up the stairs, Teresa silently padded up behind Jake. She slid her arms around his waist resting her head on his back. He pressed the palms of her hands up against his stomach enjoying the feel of her.

"We can't go on like this Jake," she said into his back.

"I know," he twisted around to face her without breaking her embrace.

"The bottom isn't going to fall out," she peered into his intense slate colored eyes. "Dr. Quinn got it all out."

A loud thud emanated from upstairs as Lucy shut the door to her bedroom. Jake smiled down at his wife, as he slid his hands from her shoulders to her swan like neck. He ran his thumb across her plump bow shaped lips before leaning down and kissing her deeply. His hands slid once more, but this time down the corset of her ribs, resting at the cinch of her waist.

"It's rainin'," he whispered his voice guttural against her mouth.

"Jake!" she blushed before surrendering to his advance.


	2. Chapter 2

Jake leaned back in his powder blue wing backed chair. The ankle of his right leg rested comfortably on his opposite knee. He smiled wickedly to himself as he watched Teresa resting deeply, from their previous mischief, on the azure brocade sofa. She was nestled into the corner of the winged arm with her legs curled up on the seat before her. Was it possible to be this happy, Jake wondered as his smile faded and he glanced wearily toward the stairs.

The fire popped and crackled as tiny orange embers sparked against the iron grate. Outside the rain pelted the windows of the house like a tiny liquid army storming forcefully at the ramparts. The ever-present thunder rattled the frame of the house in anticipation of its rapid-fire companion which cracked blaringly across the iron sky. Jake trudged across the front parlor to the square alcove leading to the stairway. Taking the stairs two at a time he reached the landing in front of Lucy's door.

Jake pressed his ear against the cool solid wood of the door listening for movement. Hearing only the light taps and slides of graphite against paper, he entered the room with a knock. Lucy was seated at her window sill, pencil in hand sketching enthusiastically. Her head tilted from one side to the other before gazing out at the violent storm. With her free hand, she slid her index finger rather roughly under her nose.

"What are ya drawin?" Jake asked choosing to ignore this final gesture.

Without turning in acknowledgment, Lucy sighed leaning her head into her erected hand. Slowly she peered at him over the curled fingers of her hand. She stared at him with his own eyes, looking through Teresa's expression. This look was familiar. He saw it this morning on Teresa's face when she saw all that mud. Lucy's sudden crossness made Jake drawn himself up.

"Am I going to break?" her question sounded so alien to him.

"What?" Jake felt like someone had smacked him square on the nose. He crumbled onto her little bed resting his arms on his legs. This certainly was not what he was expecting when he ascended the stairs. There was something new glowing in her being that had him searching for the child that clung to him.

"Why do you think that?" he suddenly felt like he should call Teresa for reinforcements.

"Yes," her voice sounded from his back causing him to breathe a sigh of relief.

Lucy looked quizzically at her mother. Her attention was shifting from a man that couldn't answer this question honestly, to a mother that knew what the child needed to hear.

"You can break, Lucy. You did break," Teresa knelt in front of her daughter lightly brushing her curls from her face. "Then Dr. Quinn put you back together again. But yes, you could break once more."

"Why?" she demanded looking to Jake.

"W-. . . I-" Jake stuttered in a panic looking to Teresa.

"Well, "Teresa began to loose her footing. "Some people break and they can be fixed, and others cannot. But you don't have to worry because if you break again your father and I will always be here to put you back together."

On hearing this, Jake perked up jumping on Teresa's bandwagon.

"There now," he tilted his head happily tapping Lucy's chin up.

He rose walking over to the window sill and picking up Lucy's drawing. It was a simple sketch, at first glance, of Teresa's herb garden and the white wooden fence Jake had had to rebuild. However as he continue to scrutinize the picture, he noticed the childish detail she had put into it. There were shadings in the leaves and trees that encircled the front of the property. She had delicately shaped each leaf to perfectly mimic the subject of each herb plant. Turning he watched as Teresa laid Lucy down in bed for her nap.

"What if you and Pa break?" she yawned her eyes struggled to open.

"That's why we have each other. I fix him, and he fixes me," she smiled feeling silly.

"What if you both," she nodded off much to Jake's relief.

He replaced the drawing on the window sill before following Teresa quietly out the door. They silently strolled down the hall passed the guest room and into their bedroom. She sat in front of her vanity spreading her skirts evenly around her. Sliding open the top side drawer, she removed a round crystal bowl shaped jar. Gently with the tips of her thumb and index fingers, she pinched the crystal nub of the lid lifting it up and placing it to the side.

Jake sat on the bed as he watched her parting strand after strand of glossy sable hair. She twisted each section around her fingers forming neat curls which she held up against her head. Dipping her fingers searchingly into the crystal bowl, she removed dainty silver pins that partially disappeared into the cloak of her hair. The ends of the pins sparkled like stars in the night sky that was her lovely hair.

"What is it?" she asked cheerily looking at him from the mirror.

"How do you know what to say to her?" Jake leaned forward on his elbow resting his chin in his hand.

"I don't," she laughed turning to face him. "I just try to be honest if I can. . . But I can not believe you Mr. Mayor, of all people were without words."

Jake cleared his throat, as he squinted his right eye at her with a smirk, feeling her jab.

"I don't know everything, I guess," he said sitting up straight so he could look her in the face as she rose from the vanity.

Teresa placed herself between Jakes now straddled legs. His fingers pinched and folded the sides of her full skirts. She combed her fingers through his thick auburn hair, as he rested his forehead on her stomach.

"It is fortunate that I am here then?" she said exhaling deeply.

"Yes. . . I wish you hadn't put your hair up," Jake whispered into her stomach.

He pulled her down on her knees bringing her to his eye level.

"I want to try again."


	3. Chapter 3

As the charcoal woolen clouds gave way to light silvery fluff, deep in the arc of the horizon, an orb of gold began to piece its way into the scenery. The leaves of the rain burdened trees, glittered in the oncoming sunlight, with crystalline droplets. Finally, with a burst of splendor the magnificent golden globe took reign over the dove gray sky. The gloom scuttled fast away from the dazzling silvery spectacle which wafted joyously under its new brilliant crown.

Shining rays struck spotlight through the openings between the thickets of the woods. Under the newfound warmth, the birds slowly began to stir from their round cubbies, stretching their feathered wings. Their morning greetings roused the occupant of the squat mud hut nestled high on the leaf-covered hill, overlooking the now rushing creek.

Sully pushed his way out of the mud and rock built barrier wall. Rising to his full height, he stretched his legs, before arching his back painfully forcing out the knotted muscles. The freak storm had caught him unawares, forcing him to abandon his fishing spot and seek shelter in his near by mud hut. Even with the short rain bursts, he didn't think the storm would last for so many days. Michaela and the children must be sick with worry, not knowing where he was.

With dismay, he observed the rise of the creek water, and the rapidity of the rush. There would be no way of crossing without a horse. His shoulders slumped as he realized this raging liquid wall was between him and home. Scanning his surroundings with his azure hawk eyes, he resolved to hike out in the opposite direction until he reached Jake's homestead. Sully retrieved his supplies from the hollow of the hut and began his journey, for want of a borrowed horse, some food, and a warm fire.

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Untouched by the pure golden light, shadows hide in big black abysses about the woods. Shelter was found in the filthy recesses of two large fallen redwoods, by two pairs of red glowing eyes. The dwellers watched as the bronzed buckskin man emerged from his irregular shelter made of leaves, sticks, and mud. They shifted their blood shot eyes at one another as they grumbled their misgivings about the value of the man.

The wood of the fallen trees had rotted under the constant downpour. The dwellers were infested with all manner of insect life. Thick long black centipedes had made their home were the two rested their heads through out the long rain soaked nights. Beetles and ants crawled over their moist pocked faces, in, and around their mud-encrusted clothes. It had been days since last, they ate, and they smelled of rot, excrement, and mildew.

The dwellers hadn't made it into town before the storm hit hard forcing them into their little alcove of destitution. One gave the other a toothy grin, before they emerged fowl onto Sully's tracks.

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Teresa yawned happily in the sun-drenched bedroom. She sighed patiently as she grasped the silver-filigreed handle, and began the task of combing out the tangles Jake had caused. The ivory teeth snagged painfully on a silver pin, Jake must have overlooked when he took her hair down. As she labored before the oval mirror, she smiled warmly at the sounds of Jake and Lucy outside.

The child's laughter echoed with squeals of joy, following pounding splashes of rain puddles. Her clumsy footfalls knocked with rapid speed about the terrace floorboards. Then the deep set thuds of Jake's boots playfully menacing after her. His voice taking on a deep gritty villainous tone, vibrated up through the house into Teresa's ears.

"I'm-going-to-get-YOU," he boomed.

"Nooo!" she shrieked, choking with laughter as she gave chase once more.

Finally, with every hair in place, Teresa stood back before the mirror framing her torso. Her hands slid down and patted gently on her abdomen. Pressing her stomach out comically she remembered being pregnant with Lucy. She frowned slightly as she straightened herself. Lucy had caused her the most excruciating back pain. What were they thinking? She recalled Jake having to walk behind her every time she waddled up the stairs. It felt like she was a wagon of potatoes, he had to push up the steps every night.

"Lucy don't pick your nose," she heard Jake say matter of fact like from bellow.

There was a slight pause before Lucy erupted into giggles, and Jake continued his comical pursuit of her. All manner of doubts flew from her mind at the sound of her family's laughter. Donning her moss green coat, she buttoned the fitted corset around her waist. Tugging at the flared sleeves as she exited the room, she skipped jauntily down the steps into the front parlor. She stopped at the trestle table to slip on her black lace fingerless gloves, and adjusted her large moss colored hood at her back.

It wasn't until then that she realized Lucy's laughter had stopped. Jake's voice now spoke with an air of reassurance and generosity. As Teresa exited the house, she saw Mr. Sully conversing tiredly with Jake in front of the hitched wagon. Jake had pushed his black Stetson back slightly on his head. His arms were crossed on his chest, but when he saw Teresa coming closer, he extended his arm to her. She allowed him to encircle her shoulders.

"Sully got trapped out in the storm," he informed her.

"Oh dear," Teresa's eyebrows went up with concern. "What can we do? Would you like a ride into town, with us?"

"I was gonna ask to borrow a horse, but by the looks of the weather I might have a better chance of findin them in town," Sully said pointing at the clear blue sky.

"Can we go now," Lucy stomped her boot as she peered impatiently at them from inside the wagon's back.

"Sure! I'll take that ride," Sully said swinging himself into the back with a giggling Lucy.

Jake helped Teresa up onto the high bench before climbing up to the reigns himself. He clucked his tongue as he flicked the leather reigns, rolling the wagon out and down the road. Sully held tight to Lucy as she jostled about like an unstoppable ball of energy. He found it hard to believe that this was the same child Teresa held fearfully in her arms, that night he met them out on the road. This was a pleasant turn around he thought to himself.

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As the wagon wheels rolled cautiously down the mud slick road, the double pair of miscreant eyes watched wantonly as the woman and her family road with the buckskin man. One pair in particular seethed with disdainful desire and the sight of her. There was money to be had here. Money and a little fun.


	4. Chapter 4

"You stay up on the walk now," Jake warned Lucy as he unlocked the barbershop and twisted the closed sign to read open.

She only nodded as she continued to roll the leather ball Mr. Bray had given her up and down the worn wooden slats of the walk. Although there weren't many people out Lucy's eyes began to wander from stranger to stranger completely enthralled in their habits. Holding the ball between the toes of her boots, she leaned back against the ledge of the shop's window. She observed the men all bundled in their heavy woolen coats and leather fur lined gloves as they passed. Ladies held tight to their bonnets against the strong drifts of wind. They snuggled tightly into the thick knit shawls wrapped about their shoulders. Though the sun was shining bright, the air still frosted the town with its icy chill.

The red clay mud of the main street was shiny and slick with moisture. Scattered like Swiss cheese, large potholes filled with rainwater made it impossible for the wagons to pull down the street. Instead, they sat abandoned, parked along the sides of the street, before the entrance of the town. The horses hitched to their posts stood ankle deep in the muck, as their owners loitered about the walk in front of the Mercantile.

Lucy stepped forward and leaned over the round rail of the walk. Pivoting on her stomach, she craned her head as she strained to see down the street. Mr. Sully stood under the gray wooden awning of the clinic gratefully embracing Dr. Quinn and Katie. Lucy watched them curiously for a while, until they walked back into the warmth of the clinic.

Jake spied Lucy through the barbershop window, with his usual air of caution, as he removed his tan tweed coat and hung it next to his black Stetson. His eyebrows rose as he watched her climb the rail and lay on her stomach with her legs hanging. Perching on the stool in front of the mirror, he selected a thick polished strap of leather and buckled one end to the steady shelf, which contained his razors, various creams, and aftershave tonics. Then opening a long rectangular varnished box, he lifted his straight blade from within its purple velvet bed.

Holding the leather taught, Jake slid the edge of the blade at an angle back and forth, along the length of the strap. He continued this motion ever vigilant of Lucy, who had now taken to rolling her ball in and out of the shops threshold, with the arches of her boots. With Lucy, finally somewhat in the shop Jake focused on honing the edge of his straight blade. As the leather stretched under the sliding blade, it crackled with a straining groan.

Slowly his mind began to drift, as he pictured dropping Teresa off in front of the schoolhouse. He watched her kiss Lucy lightly on the tip of her nose.

"Mind your Papa," she smiled as she waved at them before disappearing into the schoolhouse.

Lucy stood in the back of the wagon watching the small white building grow smaller and smaller, as she steadied herself against Sully's shoulder. As Jake approached the bridge, he had cringed at the memory of that night. Then he heard Lucy and Sully laughing to themselves behind him and he pushed the bridge to the back of his mind.

"This your ball?" the man's voice was jagged and dripped with malevolence.

Jake snapped out of his reverie as he turned to see the decrepit looking man standing over his daughter. His clothes were drenched in stale water, and his dark skin was splotched with dirt and reddened pocks. Tuffs of greasy black hair stuck out on one side of his head as the other side lay plastered and matted to his dingy skull. His toothy smile was caked with yellowish tartar so thick his teeth looked like thick misshapen piano keys. Lucy slowly backed away, reluctant to take her ball from his gnarled grimy hand. Instead, she held her hand clamped on her nose, with a mild look of disgust and fear.

"Can I help you," Jake rose fast putting himself between the swamp of a man and his daughter.

Jake ripped the ball from his grasp and handed it to Lucy, never taking his eyes off the man. From this new vantage point, Jake noticed the man's equally dirty friend lurking around the corner of the open double doors.

"You the barber and the mayor?" the man said mockingly pointing at the shingle Robert E. had made for Jake.

"Depends who your lookin for," Jake caressed the straight blade in an insinuatingly menacing manner. His eyes shifted from the rat faced man before him and the shifty looking partner by the door. The town's people strolling by began staring suspiciously at the encounter.

"How much for two hot baths, Mayor Barber?" he asked bringing his face up close to Jake's. Jake could smell the mildew and rot on the man. His nostrils flared in offense.

"Dollar each," Jake took a step forward causing the man to stumble back a touch.

The man teetered to the side steadying himself on the doorframe. His eyes rested on Lucy who was peering out from behind Jake's leg.

"What's your name pretty girl?" he leant towards her forcing Jake to shove the man back into the frame again.

"Honey," Jake's voice was soft and reassuring. "Why don't you head on down to Mr. Bray's, and get some candy?"

Her small hand reached up and grabbed the thick gray linen fabric at the side of Jake's thigh.

"It's ok, honey. I'll be there after a while."

Slowly Lucy released Jake and silently walked down the wooden path to the Mercantile. Jake squared his shoulders tensely as he held the straight blade at his side. He stepped back from the threshold cautiously aware of the other man's movements. Knowing they would rush him before he reached the drawer which held his revolver, he decided to play it safe. Jake allowed both men to enter the room as he remained close to the wide open doors.

"Tubs are in the back, behind that curtain," Jake held out his hand.

"Two dollars," the man held up to mildew stained bills.

Taking the bills in hand, he folded them neatly and placed them in the front pocket of his blue silk vest. The miscreant watched this with marked disappointment as he turned and surveyed the contents of the shop. He seemed to grow vastly interested in the varnished long box which sat closed on the shelf of the wall opposite the bathing curtains. As the pair entered the bathing recess, Jake spun around to face the direction of the saloon, only to find the walkway devoid of Hank and any assistance. Jake sighed with the realization that he was about to be robbed. Yet, he took comfort in the fact that he had gotten Lucy out.

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As the second man wafted passed her father's tense body, Lucy pressed herself flat against the outside wall of the barbershop. She knew she should have gone to Mr. Bray's like her father had said. However, she sensed the harm these men meant to cause, and she couldn't allow anything to happen to her Pa.


	5. Chapter 5

The twin spigots squeaked under the strain of the twist, as they emptied out streaming hot water into the copper tubs. Jake listened intently to the clinking of their unfastening buckles and the light swishes and plops of their clothes hitting the floorboards. The water trickled and splashed as the red curtains rustled with their movements.

"Hey! How-does, a barber become the mayor of a town?" the mouthy one chided Jake. "If you'll pardon me, you don't seem the educated sort mister."

"Oh?" Jake struggled to keep his voice steady as he faintly walked towards the back parlor. "How's that?"

Jake wrapped his fingers around the double-barreled shotgun leaning against the corner wall. Slowly so as not the alert the two devils, he cocked the gun and peer down into the cavernous barrels straight through to the floor. Jake closed his eyes as he leant his head back with irritated disappointment. An unloaded shot gun and the bullets in the box by the revolver he'd never be able to reach safely.

"Well mister, you can dress the part, wrap ya neck with a silk cravat, but ya still got them dumb eyes. . . I don't mean tah run heels on ya mister," his voice rocked as it called from the back.

"Is that right?" Jake cautiously straightened the gun, deciding to risk the gamble.

He could walk them out at gunpoint if he played his bluff, however deep in the back of his mind he worried what would happen to Lucy and Teresa if this ended badly. Now that his rationality began rolling at full steam, Jake realized that he hadn't noticed any guns or holsters on of them. However, that didn't mean these scaly lizards weren't any less dangerous.

"Ah hell if I had a pretty lil' Clementine like that wife of yours, I'd try tah look the part too," his words echoed with jagged blades in the space between him and Jake.

Jake narrowed his eyes with anger at this revelation. The hair on his neck pricked up with an icy chill. He pointed the barrels at the curtains, and without a word, he advanced on the miscreants.

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The whole town seemed to be suspended in a dream like atmosphere. Dribbling crystals of rainwater fell slow, freezing momentarily before picking up an invisible traction and plummeting with a rippling flower shaped splash on the ground. Lucy's feet were anchored with her heels parallel to the wall of the barbershop. Her palms suctioned to the wall as she breathed in the cold air freezing her lungs painfully. The town's people all seemed so out of reach, like feathers blowing out in the wind, impossible to grasp a single one.

Lucy felt her voice trapped within the chamber of her throat. Run to Mr. Bray, scream for help, leave and he breaks. Her choices darted up like hungry fish battling for her scrumptious decision. Scream for help and he breaks, run and he breaks alone without her. Salty tears streamed down her round paled cheeks, as she knew she couldn't leave her father.

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Daniel leant forward with his hands on the bar. His aqua blue eyes watched Hank with a cheery yet stern air. While he wasn't looking to turn this into an all out brawl, he wanted Hank to understand that this wouldn't be a simple slap on the wrist. Even though the storm had passed, the saloon was practically empty. No longer occupied by the usual clouds of smoke wafting about darkening the area like a cave, the saloon appeared clear, clean, and bright.

"Hank," Daniel reasoned never ceasing to smirk. "Not only is what you did against the town ordinance but it was downright underhanded."

Hank rolled his eyes as he tucked a strand of sandy brown hair behind his ear. Placing his cigar between his thin lips, he inhaled deeply before moving closer to Daniel's face. Placing the tip of his tongue on the roof of his mouth, he exhaled smoke, which passed the sides of Daniel's face. Hank chuckled as he stood back to his full height crossing his arms on his chest.

"They were wearing all their clothes when they left the saloon. I ain't responsible for what they do when they leave it," he arched an eyebrow with an air of haughtiness.

"Half naked women soliciting in the meadow is your responsibility, Hank. They're under your employ. . . And your command I'm thinkin," Daniel stood firm. "You allow this to happen again and I'll arrest you!"

Hank huffed at this begrudgingly relenting. Biting down on the cigar in his mouth, he walked over to the window and peered out across the street. The town streets looked about as empty as his saloon. The storm had not only washed out the roads but his business as well. As he mused slightly annoyed, something small huddled along the barbershop wall caught his eye.

There was something queer about the way Lucy stood plastered with her hands flat against the building. Hank looked to the side finding no other children. Finally, he cast a quizzical look towards Daniel who had now joined him at the window.

"She's cryin," Daniel pointed out feeling an odd ominous sensation. "Where's Jake?"

Hank squinted his eyes as he peered into the shops wide open doors. Watching as Jake slowly walked towards the back rooms with his shotgun raised to eye level, Hank reached for his colts at his hips. He turned expecting Daniel's rational opposition, only to find he had drawn his own pistol and was already halfway out of the saloon.

Together they haphazardly slid across the muddy slosh of a street, reaching the sturdy wooden walk. Daniel went straight for Lucy pulling her little body away from the wall. Pressing his finger against his lips, he motioned for her to get behind him, only to find her running into the waiting arms of Loren Bray.

Loren held the child up to his white apron, as she wrapped her arms around his legs. His gentle old hands cradled the mass of her ebony curls, as he escorted her away from the danger.

Daniel motioned to Hank with a lower wave of his hand that they were to go in silently. Leaning flat up along the threshold with his twin colts drawn up to his shoulders, Hank nodded in agreement. Together they slid in flanking Jake. Without looking away from his target point, Jake began to feel a sense of relief; he was no longer alone.

As Jake and Daniel took aim, they nodded to Hank to pull the curtain rods down. In an instant, Jake knew he would shoot to kill. These men had followed his family. They had been watched, had been hunted. The very thought that his child and his wife had been in danger threw him into a tunnel of rage. If he didn't put them down now they would hurt his or someone else's family. As the red curtains billowed to the ground, one thought entered Jake's mind.

'_There's no bullets in the gun.'_


	6. Chapter 6

Jake heard the clatter as the curtain rod clamored on the hard wooden floor. The sound reverberated loudly in his ears causing him to wince. As Daniel and Hank sprang forward the two stopped short with surprise. The two copper tubs were filled with fowl steaming, muddy water. The stench was incredible as all three men covered there noses.

"They went out the back!" Jake shot towards the drawer in his shelf grabbing wildly at the shotgun shells. With Hank rushing out the back, Daniel stared at Jake loading his shotgun as he hurried out. They shared a knowing glance of relief as the two fled out after Hank.

The bright shinning sun blinded the trio as they spun around the back alley, with Hank taking point. His massive sun-kissed tresses slapped Daniel across the face, as they skidded on the muddy grass, opening into the town's laundry lines. Although no bigger than Graces Café, the majority of the well lit, open yard of grass was occupied by a labyrinth of the towns drying laundry. Dispersed here and there were large sawed off barrels filled to their brims with foaming suds and perching washboards. The laundresses froze with their arms elbow deep in soapy water, as two half-dressed scarecrows made an outrageous entrance. The taller of the two reached down into the belt of his tattered slacks and pulled out a small caliber colt.

He spun around in the direction of the back alley's opening, waiting as his partner grabbed clothing off the twine lines and hastened to get dressed.

"Why'd you have to keep eggin him on, Jess?" he struggled as he buttoned the wool coat around his spindly frame. He tossed a yellowed dress shirt at his partner, who caught it with his free hand.

"Here they come," was all Jess said as he smiled maniacally aiming.

Daniel pushed passed Hank narrowly avoiding another smack to the face. All three stood with their barrels trained on Jess.

"Don't do this son," Daniel shouted attempting to give the two a chance to come safely into custody.

"My trigger finger's slippin," Hank warned mentally crossing his finger against a safe ending.

Jess maintained his unwavering stare on Jake, for which, he was targeting. Licking his chalky raw lips suggestively, he winked at Jake. The winds seemed to slow around the stand off. A silence fell so heavy that all present could feel the pressure in their ears. Jake squared his shoulders bringing the gun up to eye level. He felt his feet shifting on the unstable mud, as he tried to level his sights on the man's face.

High overhead the golden orb slowly yawned as it wrapped itself in gray-clouded covers. This cast a shadow over the men, causing them all to momentarily shift their eyes skyward. Letting his incredibly large black eyes fall and settle back down on Jake's equally threatening expression, Jess slammed the hammer to the safety down. Jake was taken off guard as Jess squeezed the trigger and he felt the iron slam of Daniel's body knocking him to the moist wet earth.

"Are you hit? You hit?" Jake yelled angrily with a tinge of panic at Daniel.

Daniel was on his feet pushing Jake back down on the ground.

"Damn it Jake stay down!" he kicked Jakes gun away.

Jake watched as Hank leapt over his body and gave chase though the sea of flapping shirts, linens, slacks, and coats. Straining Jake craned his neck against Daniel who was pressing down on his numb shoulder.

"I think it just grazed through your skin," Daniel said his voice shaking a little.

"What did Hank say?" Jake was still trying to stand.

"Jake you've been shot, damn it! Stay down!"

"Sounded like," he paused as his eyes widened with immense terror.

Shoving Daniel off him, he stumbled for his shotgun, and followed in Hank's path. All the while Daniel was shouting for him to stay calm. They reached the bridge by the church just in time to see Jess and his accomplice headed for the schoolhouse. Standing on the opposite end of the bridge Hank took aim and fired missing Jess's accomplice just as they scrambled up the narrow path to the door of the school.

Milling around the porch stairs Teresa's hand gripped the rope to the brass bell, about to dismiss her students, when she heard the shots ringing out through the meadow. Without hesitation, she grabbed the handle to the opening door and using her body for leverage she anchored it shut. A volley of shots cracked like lightening as she yelled through the thick wooden door to the children lined up behind it.

"Hide! Do not come out!" she spun around plastering herself in front of the door.

Every cell in her body tingled as she prepared to do whatever it took to spare the children. Teresa watched as two vaguely frighten looking men approached. The tallest one's eyes set hungrily on her as he pointed his pistol directly at her fluttering heart.

Jake stumbled as he passed Hank, finding a strength he never knew he had. Then he saw her, shielding the door to the schoolhouse with her body. Teresa's face held no fear as she stared down into the distant barrel of Jess's gun. Jake watched as the miscreant peered gleefully over his shoulder at Jake. Licking the tips of his fingers, he lightly pressed them to the sights of the shotgun. Jake planted his feet firmly in the emerald grass of the meadow, as he raised the gun to eyelevel. Heart beat steady; he controlled his inhaling and exhaling, remaining cool and calm.

The clank of the pistols safety echoed down into Jake's ears followed by Teresa's screams. No time, for assurances, for moral dilemmas, no time for the world. She was screaming with her arms firmly planted on the doorway. Jake felt his finger, wet and clammy, pulled the curl of steel that was the trigger. As the fire boomed like an explosion in his head, Teresa's scream stopped short. Jake lowered his weapon to his side, as Daniel and Hank ran passed him up to the schoolhouse.

There was a numb heaviness in Jake's hands as he dropped his shotgun into the wet grass. Why was this happening? Slowly, he staggered in her direction.


	7. Chapter 7

***Sorry if this chapter took awhile. Junk and whatnot gave me a bit of writer's block. I got majorly sidetracked. Hope you guys like the little surprise I've been foreshadowing. *******

Perfectly on cue, the clouds cast a weary shadow over the scene below. A frosting chill wafted like a flurry of down feathers, bringing with it a thick misting rain. Through the palpable silence, Jake felt a pounding pulse in his ears, as his feet shifted uneasily with each step. Coming upon Daniel and Hank as they prodded at the lifeless body at their feet, Jake turned away with disgust. Disgust for the man he was sure he had killed and for himself for killing him.

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Teresa's voice now calm and soothing telling the children the danger had passed but to remain within. As he climbed the gritty slope path, he felt a small spike of pain shoot through his left shoulder. Looking down in a daze, he saw the red blur that ran in a huge blob down his white and blue striped sleeve. The wetness of the mist caused the silk to cling to his skin, making the wound visible through the now shear fabric.

It all seemed to be a dream as he felt her small hand lightly press against his wound. Gazing foggily into her face, he read the fear and worry; she was trying to hide as she walked him up to the porch and sat him down.

"Going for a wagon!" Hank yelled up to them, before running back down to the bridge.

Teresa was kneeling between his knees while she unbuttoned his blue vest and slid his shoulder free of the wet fabric. It was an angry tear, where the bullet had ripped through his skin. The red meaty gore was clearly visible between the jagged shreds of flesh. Teresa closed her eyes feeling a little dizzy. She licked her lips as she gulped down bile.

"We must get you to Dr. Quinn," she resolved as she redressed him.

Jake couldn't tear his eyes away from her face. Even terrified she looked gorgeous, if not, a little queasy. Loose waves of velvety black hair clung wetly to her face and neck. Jake reached out with his good hand to lift a damp tendril away from her eye. What would he have done if he had lost her?

"You ok Jake?" Daniel came up behind Teresa helping her to stand. "If only you had shot twice we might've caught his partner before he got away in the woods."

Not a single word penetrated Jake's consciousness, as he observed the sickly look Teresa was attempting to conceal. Grimacing at the now pulsating pain, he stood at her side wrapping his arm around her waist, in order to steady her. Now he could feel her discomfort as her ribcage expanded and deflated with her labored breaths.

"We must get Jake to Dr. Quinn. He is bleeding too much," her tone was exasperated as her attention split between her husbands well being and the children within the schoolhouse.

"Don't worry, as soon as Hank gets here with the wagon, we'll get this body out, and Jake can get into town," Daniel raised an eyebrow at Jake's inability to focus on anything other than Teresa.

"Yes," she placed her hand on her heart. "Then I can get the children to their homes."

The ground suddenly vibrated with the pounding of hooves, lugging the wagon through the splashing water and up the crunching gritty path. Jake squeezed Teresa's hip reassuringly as he staggered behind Daniel. She watched as they hoisted the pock-faced man into the open wagon, and waved as the three rode back down into town.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she slowly walked into the schoolhouse to address the children.

"Are you ok Ms. Teresa?" the children asked in an uneven chorus of worry.

"Yes, children," she swallowed slapping on the veneer of optimism. "Come, we will walk back into town together."

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The morphine did nothing for the pain as she pierced through the skin of his shoulder with the fine needle. Still the worst of it was when Michaela stuck her slender finger into the smiling gash in order to push the distended meat back into place. Once again, he felt the pull of the suture thread tugging his skin upward with it. Jake felt a shudder which he caged deep into his body by going rigid. He set to focusing on the yellow-grained wood of the door; he had once felt was a portal of death leading to his wife's lifeless body. This time he allowed his body to shudder eliciting an annoyed sigh from Michaela.

"Jake if you're going to squirm, I'll just have Sully come in and hold you," one side of her mouth curled up holding back a chuckle.

Just then, the clinics door burst open revealing a distraught Loren. He stalked up to Jake's face shaking his head with abject displeasure.

"What were yah thinkin," Loren demanded looking down his nose at Jake. "You got a family now! You can't just go running around all rough shot! That poor little girl's out there cryin her eyes out for yah!"

Jake winced though not from pain. He leant his head to the side as he raked his free hand through his hair. Staring once again at the door that linked to his misfortune, he turned an accusing glance on Loren.

"Lucy's sittin out there all alone!" Jake stood causing Michaela to hop along with him and the needle. "You're suppose tah be watchin her!"

Loren threw his hands up pushing Jake back, "she's with Sully."

"Jake please," Michaela rolled her eyes. She gave the stitching a once over inspection for tearing. "Besides, Loren is right."

Every fiber in his being told him he didn't deserve this lecture. He was protecting his family from harm. Recalling how the man they called Jess, pointed his gun at Teresa set his blood to boiling all over again. With a viciously daring stare, he conceded to Michaela to continue.

"You're so busy worrying about loosing them, you haven't given one thought to how they'd feel about loosing you," Michaela joined her petite hands in front of her skirt. "And I think Teresa deserves to go through life without finding she;s been left to stand alone again."

This was too much. Jake wanted to hold his daughter in his arms. Waiting while Michaela bandaged his shoulder, he motioned for Loren to bring Lucy to him. His head hung low as he buttoned himself up. They were right. The thought of being without them was so strong he never once thought about what they would go through if he died. Again. Michaela had said 'again'. The word echoed in his mind. He was Teresa's second husband. However, they had a daughter together and then there would be-

"Papa!" there was a flurry of glossy ringlets as her tiny arms stretched around his waist. He was never so happy to have his thoughts interrupted. Lifting her up into his arms, he winced with pain.

"Has my girl been crying?" he said into her hair.

She sniffled, burying her face into the collar of his shirt. The skin of his neck felt cool and clammy against her warm soft cheek. Lucy felt her heart breaking even though he was there wrapped up in her arms. Feeling his large hand rubbing her back in small circles seemed to ease of the discomfort, of his absence. Although she heard the door open once more, she didn't look up until she heard the sound of her mother's soft voice.

"Oh, Dr. Quinn," she said pressing the back of her hand to her lips fighting back the nausea. "I must speak with you."


	8. Chapter 8

***Ok I think I was loosing perspective. Bad on me. Hopefully with this chapter I'll get us back to the basics of Jake's family getting through life. Hope you like it!***

The thick slurry of mud swallowed the men's boots up to their ankles as they sloshed down the street towards the barbershop. Their lifeless cargo, which they carried on a stretcher, weighed them down. The sounds of their boots slopping out of the suction of moist red clay, that was the street, made Jake sick. After recounting his story to Daniel out on the clinic's walkway, he'd begun to torture himself with the invisible stain of blood that coated his hands.

With his elbows perched on the round hitching post, he examined the smooth white palms. They didn't look the same to him. Not anymore. Slowly his eyes shifted up to the men carrying the body of Jess. When did he cease to be Jess? How had he become just, "The Body"? The light of day dimmed with the drifting ashen clouds, only to brighten as the sun fought its way through the dense woolen sky. Jake rose to his full height crossing his arms across his chest. Feeling the skin tugging painfully around his stitches, he pursed his lips. The cool breeze stung at his rain soaked clothes causing him to shiver inwardly.

Nonchalantly, Hank emerged with his usual swagger from the barbershop, and leaned against the red and white striped post. His cigar crunched between his teeth as he gestured with his thumb towards the open doors, for the men to bring the body in. He watched Jake standing in front of the clinic, erect like a bow against the wind. Though he knew Jake must be freezing to death, Hank eyed him with a new air of respect. And just as he had known more cruelty in his life, than he liked to admit, he knew the look of a tortured man. Their eyes locked with a rigid line of understanding, as they nodded to one another. Hank turned tossing his cigar in the ruddy muck, before entering the barbershop. Closing the doors behind him and twisting the open sign to read closed, Hank paused momentarily. He shook his head as he laughed at himself with disbelief at the compassion that had reared itself beyond his cool exterior. There was nothing he would not fail to do for a friend.

One less burden weighing down on Jake's shoulders, he turned his attention to Lucy. She was sitting quietly shell-shocked, as she absent-mindedly ran her finger under her swollen nose. The delicate creamy skin under her eyes was plump and pinkish from crying. Her eyelashes shimmered wetly as they clung thickly together making her blink awkwardly. Jake dug deep into the pockets of his slacks to produce his ivory colored handkerchief. With gentle wipes, he cleaned off her tiny face before asking her to blow her nose into the linen fabric. Lucy cast her head slightly off to the side like a broken doll. She didn't reach for him; nor, did she exhale with her usual dramatic flare.

"Lucinda?" Jake asked filling with alarm.

Her expression snapped like a switch as her eyes rounded darkly. Lucy's lips pursed in much the same way that Jake's did when he was perturbed. Pivoting on her bottom, she stretched her limbs out, before rubbing the stickiness from her eyes. She seemed to have been having a waking nightmare. Jake ran his finger from the bridge of her nose to the tip.

"Did that hurt?"

She shook her head burying her little fists into her skirts. Jake breathed a sigh of relief deeming this to be a product of today's events. He sat down allowing her to burrow into his side, as he wrapped his arm around her small body.

Teresa stepped out with her brows raised high. She didn't quite know how to feel. She saw her husband hiding his eyes in his perched hand. Her daughter crouched into the crook of his hurt bandaged arm. This was not how she envisioned this moment. Entwining her fingers around Jake's she pulled his hand away from his face. Through his exhaustion, he forced himself to smile. Caressing the side of his tired face with the back of her hand, she brushed her lips lovingly on his closed lids.

Gathering Lucy up into her arms, she waited as Jake steadied himself on her small frame. Together they walked down the street towards the parked wagons. This mess was best left for tomorrow, she thought as she herded her family onto the wagon. Taking Jake's waiting hand Teresa pulled herself onto the high bench and took the reigns from a grateful Jake. The thick leather straps felt awkward in her small-laced hands. As she lightly flicked the horses into tread, Jake rested his head sleepily on her shoulder, his arm draped around her back. Under the loud jostling of the wagon and the clapping of the horse's hooves, Lucy snored daintily into her father's damp side.

Teresa sent up a silent prayer. _Just get us home. Just get us home._


	9. Chapter 9

She meant to only rest her tired head against the small recessed wall of the window seat. However, greatly misjudging the distance Teresa's head thudded into the powder blue wall with a loud thump. She winced, holding back her chortling laughter as she rubbed the back of her sore head. Gingerly making a far more successful attempt, she raised her legs up on the built in cushioned sofa. Teresa ran her fingers playfully through the silver threaded tassels of the dove gray curtains. Parting the delicate silky strands about her fingers, she observed the now orange ember of the sun disappearing into the purplish-charcoal hues of the overcast evening.

The tops of the trees bristled in the breeze bellow her, making her feel safe as she nestled into the round cushions. Teresa smiled as she listened to Jake's trombone like snoring accompanied by Lucy's little flute like snorts. They lay on their backs with their arms and legs juxtaposed. Lucy sighed in her sleep turning over impatiently on to her stomach, and burying her face into Jake's side.

Continuing to gaze out the second story window Teresa observed the tangle of trees leading down the dirt path towards town. There was a strange bend and swing to the branches and leaves as they sashayed against the wind. Teresa straightened pressing her palms flat on the slick condensation of the window. Tiny dribbles of gritty water ran moist between her fingers. The movement swirled in haphazard directions, coming close but never breaking out into the circular clearing. Pressing her face closer to the glass, she strained to see past the thick murky greenery which was obscuring her view. The warmth of her breath seeped in a foggy puddle in front of her face. Impatiently Teresa wiped at the condensation creating a grating screeching noise with her wedding ring.

"I think it's a bear," Jake's deep sleepy voice smacked like a shot into her spine.

Teresa drew up fast, her shoulders jerking upward as she spun around to face him. Her hand flew up to her rapid beating heart as she realized in her curious trace she hadn't noticed the sudden silence of his snoring or the fact that he had gotten up. She sighed, finally, relaxing her shoulders as she raised an irritated brow at Jake's chuckles.

"What?" he asked seeing her eyes grow round as she rushed forward to unbutton his shirt.

His eyes focused on the blur of red bleeding through his stark white sleeve. Sinking down into the window seat, he waited intently as she attended to his bleeding stitches. Her hands worked quickly to remove the now soaked and scarlet bandages. Serene faced, Teresa's fingers lightly prodded at the tender pinkish flesh surrounding the foreign black cord of the surgical thread.

"Must've rolled over on it in my sleep," he said pressing his chin down as he eyeballed the dribbling leakage of blood.

"Yes, we must wash out the wound," Teresa nodded crossing the room to the porcelain washing bowl and pitcher.

Turning his attentions back to the window, he noted the last dying embers of the sun blink away into the dense midnight. Yet the muffled cracks and deliberate snaps of twigs and branches rose up from the pitch and tormented his senses. The steps were far to cautious and set with purpose as they drew close to the meadow and staggered farther back into the camouflage of the woods. He knew it wasn't a bear; however, he couldn't bring himself to concern her.

Then he felt the coolness of the wet linens dabbing gently at the leakage about his wound. Confounded he watched as she slathered a bright yellowish paste over the most problematic areas. Wiping off her hands she quickly set about bandaging with fresh linen.

"You will thank Cloud Dancing for the yarrow when next you see him," her face was stern until he nodded in agreement.

Tentatively shrugging on the clean shirt she brought him, he eyed her with a curious air. Her eyes flashed between him and Lucy as she covered her with an ivory quilt decorated with three large, slate blue, entwined circles. The corners of her mouth where threatening to curl up into a smile as she turned her back on him.

"What did Dr. Mike have tah say?" there was a bit of enthusiasm in the rising tone of his voice.

She shrugged her shoulders as she tucked Lucy's limp arms into the warmth of the quilt.

"Teresa?" he pleaded rising from the seat and taking her by the hand.

He pulled her towards the hallway barely containing his excitement. In this moment that shadow could remain wandering ominously out in the black night of the woods. His arm could pulse with its jagged pain, until it fell off. Holding her shoulders as he peered questioningly into Teresa's smiling face, his heart melted as she nodded.

"Does this mean?" he swallowed squeezing the delicate fabric of her dress between his fingers.

Jake pulled Teresa up pressing his lips to hers, feeling her body mold to his. Her arm wrapped around his waist, as her hands slid up the back of his shirt finding his bare skin. Relinquishing their kiss, Teresa tilted her head up and whispered deeply into his ear. . .

"Yes, Jake. Yes!"


	10. Chapter 10

The citrine sun shimmered high in the early morning sky. Pure white clouds drifted, against the clear cerulean background, forming mountainous shapes. The heart shaped leaves of the trees rattled in the cool wind shaking off warm droplets of spent rain. Casting tall over the sun-drenched path, his shadow stretched ending with the bowed outline of his hat. He came down on his haunches leaning his hurt arm on his bent knee. With a gloved hand, Jake grabbed up a clump of rusty soil, squeezing the pasty clay in his fist. A single champagne tinted drop plopped down onto the cracking top layer of mud.

Absent-mindedly he rose to his full height smacking the mud out of his clapping hands. The needle like jabs of pain reminded him of his injury, as he leant his head back and closed his eyes against the sensation. Flipping back the front flaps of his cobalt jacket, he rested his hands on his narrow hips. In this fashion, he swung around to look up at Lucy as she lingered behind the white post of the terrace watching him. The pale baby blue of her dress peeked out from the unbuttoned opening of her dark chocolate wool coat. Her plump dark ringlets fell lazily over her small shoulders as she wrapped her tiny arms around the square banister of the stairs. Finally stepping out into the sunlight her slate grey eyes seemed to become illuminated with a touch of pale blue.

Jake smiled reaching out his hand for her only to find her arms grasping tighter to the banister. Tipping his hat back on his head he sauntered over to Lucy, placing his boot up on the second step, and perched his elbow on the rail.

"What is it honey?"

She pointed out passed Teresa's herb garden and beyond the open meadow towards the dense tangle of woods. Even under the bright spotlight of the sun, the awning of greenery shielded the shadows in the thickets below. Jake tilted the dark brown brim of his hat back into place as he squinted his eyes at the vast nothingness. He saw no movement, nor ominous shapes creeping about; however, tinges of unease perked up the tiny blonde hairs on his skin.

"Teresa!" he yelled simultaneously taking Lucy up into his arms. "Let's go!"

There was a lavender flurry as she padded her skirts out of the way of the closing door. Descending the stairs, she rushed behind Jake's hurried footsteps as they piled into the wagon. With Lucy situated she began to nervously slip her fingers into the fitted white lace of her gloves. Her hands quaked as her fingers picked at the fraying strands which had become entangled in the tiny silver facets of her ring. Without looking, Jake reached over and squeezed her shaking hand, calming her urgency.

"I wanna ride in the back," Lucy's leg swung over the backrest of the high bench hanging half her body over the edge.

Jake immediately lifted her up under her small arms and set her back down between Teresa and him. His mission to get them into town safely was sacrosanct, which was made apparent by his set jaw and the blazing directness of his attitude. Lucy watched him as he whipped the reigns harshly rushing them off the rock walkway and onto the dirt road leading through the woods and into town.

Teresa wrapped her arm around Lucy, recalling the last time Jake had driven the wagon with such reckless abandon. Casting a worried glance at their loaded trunks in the back, she felt a sickly lump pushing a fresh bout of nausea around in her stomach. She didn't relish the lack of privacy that came with living directly in the middle of town; yet, she could certainly overlook it for safety's sake. Besides, she observed the extreme tenseness of Jake's body language as he shouted at the horses to move faster, this was for Jake's sanity overall.

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Teresa groaned as she pushed the palm of her hand upward against the rusted metal window latch. She was certain this window hadn't been opened since they had moved out and into the house. The metal ground slowly against the small crank, pushing out bronze paste, as the wheel turned releasing the lock to the window. Teresa exhaled as her shoulders slumped and her arms went limp as noodles. Rubbing the shiny pink indentation the latch left in her palm, she smiled. Triumphantly she swung the dust-covered window out bringing in some much needed fresh air.

The sounds from the street below rose up to meet her with a humorous guffaw.

"Heh eh eh, it's gonna be good havin' yah back in town, Jake," Loren laughed patting him on the back.

"Yeah, I'll clear out yah bar stool in the saloon for ya," Hank leaned against the now forgotten trunk in the back of the wagon.

There was a slight pause as Teresa held her breath.

"Sure," his tone rose with the lie. "I uh gotta get these trunks in."

She heard Hank and Jake groan as they hefted the large steamer trunk and carried it into the barbershop. Their voices permeated through the walls making Teresa uneasy once more. The two grew cautiously silent as the sound of her echoing footfalls brought her down the steps. Huddled together on the threshold of the opened double doors they watched as Loren's strayed attention took him across the street to the clinic.

"I'll find Sully then," Hank whispered slyly crunching his cigar between his teeth.

Jake nodded crossing his arms over his chest. He ran his thumb under his lower lip before tucking his hand back into his arm.

"Don't mention it to Loren, got it."

Hank bobbed his head in the affirmative, curling his lips up into a roguish smirk. Teresa cleared her throat bringing an end to their scheming. Cocking her eyebrow knowingly, she smiled as Hank crossed the room and gave her a friendly peck on the cheek. The bristles of his unshaven chin scrubbed foreign against her soft skin.

"Congrats. Maybe you'll get some use outta those cowboy boots after all," he smiled backing out of the room with a wave.

With her hands clasped behind her back, she leaned against the opposite side of the threshold. She waited as she watched Jake extinguishing his temper as he eyed Hank strolling towards the saloon. Finally, he sauntered over to her allowing himself to tower over her. His eyes seethed down at her like two grey infernos, burning away all his secrets. Then her hand reached up like a feather and brushed across the side of his face.

"If I asked you not to do this, would you leave it to them?" she didn't even attempt to hide the fear in her voice.

He leaned down pressing his lips to each of her closed lids, then the tip of her nose, and finally lingering on her mouth. Pulling away Jake twirled a loose strand of hair, which had fallen free from her temple, around his finger. His other hand fell gently on her flat stomach longing for the moment when he could feel his child kick back. Overhead he heard the sound of Lucy's laughter as she played on the top landing of the stairs.

"No. I have to keep my girls safe."


	11. Chapter 11

***Just a bit of fun before we really get into it.***

Stretching her feet closer to the warmth emanating from the round belly of the black cast iron stove, Teresa let her head roll back cracking the bones in her neck. With each tension releasing pop, she felt her muscles a little less taut and her focus slightly sharper than before. She adjusted her stack of papers enjoying their crackling thickness, as they rustled uniformly onto Jake's copy of The Legend of Sleepy Hallow, which served as a writing board in her lap. The red grease pencil slid like butter around a mistakenly drawn backwards letter b. It was the fifth reversed b she had come across in Benjamin's composition. In fact, she was beginning to notice that he did the same with his numbers as well, especially his three's. Absently, she taped the red lacquered end of the pencil against the side of the brown leather spine of the book.

A bombast of laughter spilled drunkenly from the saloon across the street, and vibrated against the glass of the wooden doors. Teresa pinched the bridge of her nose feeling a nauseous wave uncurling in the depth of her stomach and pushing its sickly way up into her chest. Swallowing hard she pushed back at the pressure, unwilling to make a trip out into the darkness towards the outhouse sheds.

"I don't think she's goin down anytime soon," Jake snapped his gold pocket watch shut, placing it back into its navy blue pocket. His feet sauntered down the steps coming to a curious halt at the sight of Teresa's exhausted form. "Why don't ya take a break?"

Another ruckus guffaw assailed their ears, as Jake wondered how he had ever been able to sleep through it all. He looked pleadingly down at Teresa as she shook her head, before settling closer to the heat from the stove. Cupping his hands in front of his mouth Jake huffed into his palms warming the skin. He stood behind her pressing his fingers along the back and sides of her neck, kneading her soft skin. As her head lulled sleepily back pressing against his belly button, he ran his fingers under the refined line of her jaw and down the narrow flute of her neck. Thumbs gently caressing the curve of her collarbone, Jake could feel Teresa's skin responding to his maddening attentions.

"Jake," she moaned as her closed lids fought to open.

Leaning forward he kissed her mouth upside down parting her lips with his tongue, and tasting the bittersweet flavor of her nightly rose petal tea. A guttural moan escaped his throat as he ran his hands down her arms, pushing the book and paper stack onto the floor. Finally ending the kiss, Teresa peered up into his darkened eyes as he brought himself around. Jake pulled her from the chair and backed her towards the privacy curtains, which contained the bathing tubs. Hidden behind the crimson threads Jake tucked his finger under her chin bringing her head slightly to the side. His lips brushed lightly at first, feeling the soft skin warming to his touch. Then his lips parted and she felt the brief nip from his teeth followed by the intoxicating heat of his tongue.

Teresa flung her arms around Jake's neck burying her fingers in the thick tuffs of his auburn hair, causing him to bring her up by the waist closing the gap between them. They riled passionately in each other's embraces, coming close to the point of no return. Heat emanated from their entangled bodies generating a salacious energy neither wanted to end.

Tiny thumps pounded down the wooden steps, forcing Jake to slam his hand flat against the wall behind Teresa. His body went rigid as every muscle in him ran hard as steel. Together they quieted though Teresa was able to recover with far more ease. Remaining frozen as a statue over Teresa, Jake's mouth pursed to the side fighting back a smile. She cocked an eyebrow as she straightened her dress and ran her fingers through her disheveled hair.

"Mamma?" Lucy's voice called over the muffled clicks of her searching heels. "Pa?"

Teresa patted Jake's chest giggling as she snuck out from behind the privacy curtains and assumed an innocent guise. "You should be asleep."

"Why isn't he here yet?" Lucy pouted stamping her heel onto the ground.

"Lucy you cannot stay up waiting for him. It might be another day before he even makes it into town," Teresa attempted to herd Lucy back up the stairs.

Jake braced himself allowing his excitement to ware off in waves. As he listened to their voices, he prayed Teresa would be able to get Lucy in bed without him. Combing his stiff fingers through his hair, his chest rose and fell, over his racing heartbeat. At length he felt his body settle into the cradle of normalcy, as he made his triumphant entrance.

"What is in your hand?" Teresa took something from Lucy that Jake couldn't see.

"I found your bonnet under my bed," Lucy peered out from behind her mother's skirts at her father. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at his unkempt hair and ruffled shirt collar. "Can I keep it?"

Rubbing the back of his head, Jake nonchalantly attempted to side step his daughter's scrutinizing gaze. He bent slowly over gathering up the scattered school papers, feeling like an ant under her magnifying glass. Overlooking the overturned book Jake tapped the stack into place against the arm of the shop chair, keeping his back to Lucy, as he was sure she would point out his flushed complexion.

"This is not my bonnet Jake Slicker," Teresa placed a stern emphasis on his name. She held the out the partially stained garment waiting in complete disbelief. "Jake?"

Without turning to face her Jake furrowed his brows and jerked back his head as he searched the echoes of his past for a plausible excuse. Finding none he took to frantically wishing, that seemingly magical man would appear at the door, shifting the attention away from what he now knew was in Teresa's hand. Jake's shoulders slumped suddenly wishing he had gone with Loren and Hank. But that was how this messy secret started, his conscience chided him. Loren. He should be answering to this piece of mischief as well, Jake thought turning to face the music.

Taking the filthy cotton cloth from Teresa he turned it over in his hands, smiling at the foolishness he had once been willing to go through. The tiny blue cornflowers had nearly faded into the abyss of their pale blue tinted background. For the life of him, he couldn't recall what had happened to the wig or the shredded dress.

"It's mine," he met Teresa's shocked expression with a daringly amused calm. "I'm rather surprised it has been up there all this time."

"But- I-I. Yo-," she stammered unprepared for his response.

"Sure," his tone rose as he placed it on his head and tied the bow under the left side of his chin. "Called mahself Jane!"

Lucy giggled behind her hands as Teresa blinked still unable to form full sentences. It was far too ludicrous to be true and yet she couldn't believe that he would ever lie to her.

"If ya want, you could ask Horace. If he can remember that far back," Jake offered smiling as Lucy wrapped her arms around her sides with laughter.

Teresa placed her hands on her hips, as she narrowed her eyes, and curl the corner of her mouth into an amused smirk. "Or perhaps we could ask Mr. Bray or Hank?"

"Sure, they were there," his eyes nearly crossed as he realized she and Lucy could see something he couldn't.

Ripping the bonnet from his head, he turned to see Hank and Loren leaning into the silently opened door. Hank tossed his spent cigar out into the dark street, as he shrugged his sandy waves of hair over his shoulder.

"This is what you'd rather be doin, instead ah comin over for a drink?" he raised an eyebrow quizzically eyeing Teresa as she stifled her laughter.

Loren shook his head with childish indignation, "You said we weren't gonna tell no one!"

Jake rolled his eyes unconcerned with their opinions. His family seemed to be experiencing every obstacle imaginable, and he was beginning to understand the words Michaela once told him. _No one's life's perfect. We all have our share of difficulties. _With what he, Hank, and Sully were planning to do, Jake knew he would act the fool if the last thing he ever saw was Lucy laughing and Teresa's smile.


	12. Chapter 12

The warm yellow light of the flickering candles caused the sedentary shadows to ripple uniformly against the cherry wood stained walls. Wafting in from the open windows mingled the mystic scents of sandal and wormwood. Deep rich earthy odors of moist soil took flight on the cool night winds rising up over the homestead before swooping down into the white oak trees. The blue hue of his eyes glowed like the heart of a flame as he squinted down at the darkness of the woods surrounding the back of the homestead. He didn't dare approach the windowsill, for fear he'd blow the scheme. Yet as sure as he was they had no other options, he knew there was more than one lurking about in the darkness.

Looking down at the thick deep lines of his strong tan hands, he curled his fingertips onto his palms making fists. He didn't like what was about to happen. It bore down on his conscience splitting his morals and his sense of duty to his family. Had he known the gauntlet would be thrown down in this manner, he would have told Jake about the two hiding in the woods, when he had arrived at Jake's home that morning. A man wouldn't be dead and more wouldn't be in danger of dying. Sully scoffed wrapping his arms around his chest recalling how Jake was the voice of reason when Hank declared they should all die.

If only Cloud Dancing wasn't late getting back.

"I knew they were watching me," Sully said as though he were pulling a splinter from his skin.

"You couldn't have known they were this dangerous," Michaela placed her elbows on the vanity as she watched him through the mirror.

"They're marauders, Michaela! Do you know what they coulda done if Lucy were alone. . . If Katie were alone! Parta me understands what made Jake shoot that man. Parta me is glad he did," he noncommittally punched his fists into the mattress.

The satin curtain that was her hair cascaded over her slender shoulder as she rose and crossed the room to him. Michaela wrapped her arms around his waist easing some but not all the tension from his warm body. The side of her face nestled so close she could hear the raging pounding of his fiery heart.

"Between you, Daniel and Jake they can be brought in safely and jailed," Michaela attempted to reassure him.

Sully kissed the top of her head feeling a mixture of fear and rage. Should he tell her the entire truth or allow her to remain at ease until the dreaded scheme was brought to fruition? Suddenly sensing the strain within him, Michaela pulled away so that she could see his face. His eyes told the story of a cracking dam about to flood out every secret he knew.

Her two-toned eyes flickered with the keys that unlocked his resolve.

"What aren't you telling me?"

Cupping her face in his hands, Sully pressed his lips into the soft white flesh of her forehead. He never intended to keep secrets from her, only to spare her the terror of what lurked around their small town.

"It's a band of them," he watched it sink in as her eyes began to show signs that she was accessing everything she already knew. "There were two at Jake's house."

"That's why he brought them back into town."

"There are three that Hank saw lurking around the back of the church the night after Jess was shot. They ran back into the woods before he could get a shot off," his eyes darted from the window and back to her intelligent gaze. Closing his eyes he nodded before adding, "3."

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The town was shaded under an eerie blue hue that cast the buildings in a dream like state. There was a kind of thick tension weighing heavily over the palpable silence, which knocked every ounce of slumber from Teresa's body. Turning her head to the side, she watched as Jake turned over onto his stomach and trapped her hips under his leg. With a defeated sigh, she wished she had gotten up when she had the chance.

In an idle boredom, Teresa's finger wandered along the fuzz worn wool of Jake's faded red long johns. Her finger ran along the fabric of his thigh until she found a knot of wool fibers. Trapping it in the scissor grip of her nails, she ripped off the fuzz ball before moving on in search of another. Now and then, the muscles in his thigh flexed and steadied against her abdomen causing her to watch his face for signs of wake. After a while, Teresa began to toy with the ideas of purposefully waking him with a flick to the nose or simply wiggling out from under him. Deciding on the latter, she let her leg hang over the side of the bed as an anchor while she rocked her hips an inch down his knee.

The sudden coolness from the space her body left behind caused Jake's body to shudder. Teresa froze as he huddled closer to her, further cementing her predicament by draping his arm, heavily across her chest. Teresa chuckled at the ridiculousness of the situation before consigning herself to staring wide eyed at the wooden beams of the ceiling. As her fingers took up their fuzz regime, her mind began to wander and drift around the new life growing under Jake's lazy thigh. The thought provoked the distant memory of Lucy's birth.

Although she had been terrified, the only thing she knew she would change were the moments Jake was absent. When she thought she was going to give birth alone on the stairs. Afterwards she had felt exhaustion so deep; she had to fight to keep her eyes open. The last thing she remembered before she woke again in their bedroom was Cloud Dancing placing Lucy in Jake's arms.

As Teresa's eyes blinked into focus on the two figures attending to her, she searched passed them for Jake.

"She is awake now," Cloud Dancing voice was low and steady as he rested his palm on her forehead. "Fever is broken."

"That's normal," Michaela smiled tucking the pale blue and white quilt up under her arms. "We're lucky Cloud Dancing arrived in time."

Teresa looked up into the man's gentle smiling face. His deep brown eyes shone with kindness and complete and utter trust. He'd saved her husband, saved her child, and now he had saved her life. Reaching up and taking his large hand in hers, she smiled tiredly.

"You saved us," her voice was a mere whisper.

"The spirits have crossed our paths. On more than one occasion."

She squeezed his fingers feeling rather attached and grateful. "You knew I was going to have a girl."

Cloud Dancing nodded wisely understanding the new link that was forming.

"She will not have grandparents," Teresa looked to Michaela for her blessing to go on.

Michaela smiled as she approached the door in order to let Jake and the baby in. She laughed with joy realizing that this would further Cloud Dancing's place in Colorado Springs.

"I would be honored if you would be such a presence in my daughter's life. We would be most grateful to count you as one of our family," the exhaustion was beginning to overtake her again. However, she needed to see this through. Teresa hardly noticed the door had opened when she whispered close to Cloud Dancing's ear, "As family."

Cloud Dancing nodded patting her hands with acceptance. He was becoming a link in the chain of this town and the land. The spirits had not only given him a family in Sully and Michaela, but also built another tribe of loved ones.

"Then it will be so," he reassured her.

As he took his leave from her side, he stepped before Jake, smoothing the curling wisps of sable hair on the infants head. "On this night, your family has grown two-fold."

Jake shifted his head back awkwardly on his pillow making him snore loudly in Teresa's ear. The delicate web of her memories snapped away bringing her back to the present. Feeling very close to the end of her rope, Teresa reached up and snapped at Jake's nose with the flick of her middle finger. His body jostled as he stared frightfully into Teresa's irritated expression.

"What happened?" he looked about the room alert as a watchdog.

"Nothing," she sighed nestling close to his body with a yawn. "I'm just cold." Pulling the pale blue quilt up under her chin, she closed her eyes and let deep calming waves of sleep take her.

Jake wrapped his arms around her body as he settled close to the mild rose scented fragrance of her hair. Their body's entwined as they both drifted off into the calm blue night.


	13. Chapter 13

Pressing her fingers into the bubble strained muck of the glass, Katie cleared out a small circle for her view. Still she strained to peek through the thickly laced curtains, which veiled her from making out exactly who was among the men, loitering nervously around the jail. Shrugging her shoulders testily, Katie turned her gaze toward her little charge sitting cross-legged in the dried leaves at her feet.

"They're in there. But I can't see good through that darn lace!" Katie whispered with irritation at Lucy. Under the shade of the thick oak boughs, Katie's blue eyes blazed like murky sapphires, as she pursed her pink lips into a thin line. As she leaned down to offer her hand to Lucy, a cascade of straight silk strands fell over her shoulder. Lucy watched intently as several beams of sunlight permeated the leaves illuminating the shimmering gold, sandy tan, and deep chocolate hues in Katie's hair. "I'll give ya a boost Lucy."

Lucy took her friend's hand as leverage to pull herself to her feet. Even though she stood on the tips of her toes, Lucy only came up to Katie's shoulder. Seeing how Katie giggled at Lucy's toe stand, she found herself envying the fact that Katie was two years older. The world looked much shinier and full of freedoms from Katie's age than that of Lucy's mere 6 years.

"Don't drop me," Lucy warned placing her foot in Katie's coupled hands. With her fingers digging into the cracking sill of the jailhouse window, Lucy balanced awkwardly until she sat squarely on her accomplice's shoulders. Straightening her back Lucy peered over the lace bottom sash of the window, watching as her father leaned against the jail bars with his back to her. He pushed his hat back on his head, as Sully waved his hands in defense at someone further off to the side.

"What do you see?" Katie held Lucy's ankles as she attempted to rise off her heels.

"Our Pa's," she craned her head trying to see around the corner towards the desk. "And Mr. Lawson. . .They look mad."

"What're they sayin?" Katie two stepped her way closer to the opposite end of the window so Lucy could see more of the room.

"Shhhh, there's someone else in there," she paused flattening her face to the rotting wooden frame. "I can't. . . Mr. Lawson's standing in the way."

Ducking her head slightly she watched as Hank crossed the room and sat crudely in the sheriff's chair, resting his feet up on the desk. Jake strutted over leaning his hands flat on the desktop, then pointing his finger with warning at Hank; Lucy heard the rough anger in his tone.

"Now you listen Hank! I gave my word that those men would be brought in alive! If ya can't fall in with the rest of us, then don't go!" his voice boomed rattling the glass panes.

Lucy gasped suddenly aware of the three figures milling around in front of the door. Her hand reached down tapping Katie on the top of her head.

"It's the sheriff and Robert E. . .And ya ma!" Lucy squirmed closer to the wall soaking up as much information as possible.

"We simply want to clean out the woods of them, Hank. There's no need for further violence," Michaela looked to Sully for support.

He connected with her line of sight long enough to read her thoughts. Pushing himself off the wall he'd been leaning against Sully drew closer to Jake's side. "If we go in there shootin they'll scatter. We can't afford to leave stragglers. Give Daniel's plan a chance to work."

Hank narrowed his eyes as he crunched down on the thin cigar between his teeth. One arm crooked back so he could tap menacingly on the white pearl handle of his holstered colt. "They killed one of my girls like she was an animal."

The room went silent as the grave in a matter of seconds. Michaela stepped forward pounding her fist into the desk, giving Jake and Sully a start.

"Why didn't you report this?" her eyes flashed from Hank's averting stare to Daniel's sudden fidgeting stance.

"It was reported," Daniel mumbled under his breath. His kind eyes pleaded with Michaela to understand. "We didn't want to cause a panic after the children were threatened up at the school, that day."

Robert E wiped at his face with his white bandana, feeling the pressure and doubt circulating around the ever-growing predicament. "I'm beginning to think we should wire for the army."

"They won't come," Jake's voice dripped with defeat as he pressed at his hurt shoulder. Lucy noted the painful grimace he was trying to hide from the company gathered. Tiny beads of sweat were faintly misting along his hairline, dampening his skin, and soaking into his blue collar. Turning his back to the room, he unbuttoned the top of his shirt freeing his stifling throat. "They'll send two maybe three if they can spare'em. But they won't get here for weeks."

Robert E began to eye Jake suspiciously, as he drew feverishly farther from those gathered around Hank. He watched as Jake wandered into the front cell and plopped down onto the hay-lined cot. Propping his elbow up on his knee Jake hid half his face in his erect hand. As the argument between Michaela, Daniel, Sully, and Hank blazed in an unending circle of indecision, Robert E moved to stand in the threshold of the iron cell.

"You're not lookin to good," he surveyed the slight tremble in Jakes hands.

Jake looked up into the frazzled wide-eyed expression of the man before him. "I just want to keep my family safe. That's all any of us want."

"I have to get down," Lucy pushed away from the wall toppling Katie down into the dirt trench of the building.

"What is it?" Katie demanded patting dried leaves and twigs from her skirt.

"He's sick," Lucy yelled behind her as she ran towards the jailhouse's front door.


	14. Chapter 14

Her hand tightened vice-like around the slender wooden pencil, before her mouth. The creased lines of skin around her alabaster knuckles blushed bright red as the creaking grain of the wood groaned under the increasing pressure of her grip. Her icy blue gaze scanned every oncoming horse with painful hope only to pierce her heart with agonizing disappointment. Finally feeling the slicing sensation of her nails digging into her palms she let the pencil cradle loosely into her now numb upturned hand. The flesh was spotted milky and crimson from the lack of circulation.

"Ah somethin is goin on," Loren smacked his fist into his flat palm. "The barbershop is closed, Hank ain't at the saloon. This mornin' I saw Dr. Mike and Sully walkin' intah the jail like they was hidin somethin and they ain't been out since! Are you listenin' to me, Dorothy?"

Absently she slid the pencil into the autumn fizz of her hair. Dorothy pressed her shoulder into the frame of the wide doorway, her eyes never ceasing in their hunt for him. Loren's yammering tone echoed in the second line of Dorothy's thoughts. First and foremost, Cloud Dancing's arrival held the attentions of her mind and her heart.

"I'm sure you're just being paranoid," she murmured tensing her shoulders as another rider entered town halting with a tired lurch in front of the Gold Nugget. Blinking with a devastating sigh, she lulled her head towards the jail watching for any signs of dissention. Jake's voice boomed inaudible through the structure and faded up the street before it dissipated at the threshold of her ears. Dorothy turned eyeing Loren suspiciously as he continued his tirade of suspected conspiracy completely unaware of the rooted truth.

"They're keepin somethin from me, I can feel it in my bones!" he shuffled around the counter to stand at Dorothy's side. "Just cuz I'm gettin' on in my years, don't mean I wouldn't understand what those youngin's are up tah."

Dorothy blinked at this, taken off guard by his sudden sincere openness. She turned looking up into his drooping tired eyes, realizing for the first time that Loren might be lonely.

"Loren Bray!" the corners of her mouth curled up, as she patted his arm. "You surprise me! Why nobodies tryin tah cut you outta anything."

An angry hum of voices stirred up from the jailhouse, attracting Loren and Dorothy's attention. The quarreling pitch fell silent as Lucy's small form rounded the corner of the jail and took to pounding her tiny fists against the solid door. Her legs struggled against the folds of her skirts, as she ran out into the street. Arms stretched outward in order to snatch up Lucy, Dorothy was just passed the barbershop when she heard Teresa's blood curdling scream. The terror that dripped from her voice froze Dorothy in her tracks as her arms fell limp at her sides. A dull ach uncurled deep inside her chest shocking her ability to react into a mute dumbness. She hardly registered the sight, as his ebony hair swooped over his shoulder as he flew out from nowhere and took Lucy up into his arms.

Lucy whispered close to Cloud Dancing's ear before resting her head on the pillow of his thick flax colored coat. His hand gently soothed her back as he nodded to Dorothy, his face awash with tension and distress.

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Every ounce of Teresa's body quaked in shock as she backed out of the barbershop, never daring to turn her back on the horror she'd discovered lying on the seat of Jake's barber chair. Stomach churning, her hand pressed with a shiver against her toiling belly. The sudden warmth of the dim sunlight did nothing to thaw the frozen terror, which replayed like a plague in her mind.

As she tripped over her feet down the steps of the walk, her back smacked up against the solid wall of his body. Turning, her eyes ate up the sickly sight of Jake's stricken form. His skin had paled to an almost translucent hue, under the glistening sweat, that dripped down his soaked hairline. The unbuttoned collar of his shirt wilted damply to the sides of his gulping Adam's apple as he swallowed back the anger welling up in his heaving chest. Cast under the shadowed brim of his Stetson, his eyes stormed with dark blue hues, which clouded over with charcoal grays.

"Jake," she steadied herself as she grasped the lapels of his coat. "Jake?"

His hands cuffed her shoulders, as he silently inspected her for injury. Finding no cause for alarm, he gently nudged her towards Cloud Dancing, who stood under the awning of the jail holding Lucy in his arms. All the while Katie peered out from behind the gray, yellow, and clay red stripes of his coat sleeve.

"Jake!" she shouted at his back frightened by the haggardness of his appearance. He had not looked that way, this morning. She watched as Jake forced himself up the steps behind Hank, Daniel, and Sully.

"That is fever sickness," Cloud Dancing shifted Lucy closer to his hip so he could embrace Katie at his side. "He is trying to hide the imbalance of his spirit."

Just as Teresa opened her mouth to answer, Hank crashed through the shop doors leaving Daniel and Sully trailing after him. His blond locks crashed forward as he came face to face with Michaela's questioning stare. With his arm extended behind him, Hank glared as he took an unwavering stance.

"That's Marcy's finger layin' in there! And you want us to go out there and capture those maniacs alive!" Hank seethed towering over her.

Michaela's eyes grew wide as she met Sully's struggling expression. The town seemed to freeze under the weight of the unseen force reeking havoc and threatening their way of life. Jake shuffled out on the walk, his eyes locking on Teresa and Lucy.

"Tell Horace to wire the army."


	15. Chapter 15

**I'm so sorry for the delay. I know I said I would have this chapter out early, but I didn't count on getting that horrible flu, or the pneumonia that followed. However, now that I am able to sit up I've finished the chapter and hope you enjoy the little vignettes of the town. So, sorry again, and enjoy. **

Jake sniffed at the bitter bark scent that curled up into his flared nostrils, before sipping down the warm liquid. Feeling like a stubborn child, he narrowed his eyes begrudging the way they watched him, assuring that he drank all his willow bark tea. However, as his eyes fell on Teresa's face, he mentally kicked himself. The fear he found in her worried visage was not that of a woman who'd happened upon a half eaten finger. She knew now that he'd been concealing his fever from her. That he'd been over working his hurt shoulder causing a slight infection. A razor sharp shudder rocked his body as Michaela pulled another torn suture from his wound.

Pursing his lips, he tightened his muscles against the pain, as she cleared the infected laceration, with chlorine water. Jake shuddered once more, as Teresa pushed the bottom of the hot mug up to his lips, urging him to drink more. About to stage a protest, Jake relented after seeing the shake of Cloud Dancing head, where he stood behind Teresa. The soil-tinted liquid flushed down warm and bitter, further heating his throat and chest.

"Your very lucky Jake," Michaela leant back threading a curved needle before dipping it into a glass bowl of carbolic acid. "The flesh around the wound isn't bleeding, thanks to the yarrow paste. But I do see a slight inflammation caused by the tearing. The fever seems to have burned off most of the infection that would have cause gangrene."

Teresa slumped her shoulders, as she tilted her face austerely eyeing him.

"Jake," with only the mention of his name, she drove home the worry he had caused by attempting to spare her his added trauma. "Will he be ok, Dr. Quinn?"

"Well," she rose setting out a sterile scalpel. "I need to slice off a small patch of the infected meat here near the opening. Jake would you like something for the pain? Laudanum perhaps?"

"No!" he handed Teresa his emptied mug and motioned for Cloud Dancing to help him bare the pain.

In a flash Cloud Dancing was at his side, steadying Jake's shoulders for Michaela to work. Jake grasped his hand for support, before he nodded his readiness. Squaring her stance, Michaela pressed her lips into a thin line. Any other patient would be put under the ether, yet, since Jake had quit the bottle, he wouldn't allow any anesthetic. Quite frankly, she had been shocked when he'd given her permission to localize morphine into the wound the first time.

Jake's eyes wandered nervously from Teresa to Cloud Dancing, recalling the yarrow paste. With Teresa's hand rubbing his knee comfortingly, Jake squeezed Cloud Dancing's fingers with a comical smirk.

"When this is over," he chuckled in Cloud Dancing's direction, "Remind me to thank yah for the yarrow."

"Don't move," Michaela said through grit teeth as she sliced neatly between the cut.

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The phantom of tension squatted down on the town as it lulled itself into the darkening twilight. Once bustling dusky avenues, gave way to silent eddies of dirt which danced freely in their vacancies. Colorado Springs had pulled the blanket of fear over its head and families filed away into their homes, boarding rooms, and available makeshift beds.

Closing up tightly against the night the saloon extinguished its usual broad revelries along with the dying amber hues of light. The only movement behind its dim shutters was the ever-vigilant angry figure, stroking readily at his loaded rifle. With the light of its hot ember burning like a pinprick in the black abyss, Hank's lit cigar blinked a warning to anyone foolish enough to stop by unknown.

Towering warmly over the saloon the clinic stirred with the hushed laughter of its occupants, too frightened to make the trip back into the corrupt woods, to their homestead. The street echoed with the clacking metal latches which flipped and locked each door, window, and stair gate. Slowly the chirpy shadows of Michaela's brood gathered close in the front room, by the furnace, safe in one another's company.

Rattling rigidly, the glass panes shook in their wooden frames as Loren slammed the front doors closed and hastily locked them. The hurried clomps of his gentleman's boots, smacked nervously on the creaking wood walk, as Loren jostled on his way to the Gazette to join Dorothy, Cloud Dancing, and the waiting Reverend. As he scuttled passed the barbershop he smiled at the gentle hushed melody of Teresa's Spanish lullaby, as she crooned sweetly to her sleeping child.

Deep in the heart of the shop, Jake waited patiently, leaning his good shoulder against the rail of the stairs. With his eyes closed, he listened intently to the velvet smooth notes of her voice which reminded him so of the nights when Lucy was still cradled in Teresa's belly. Warm sheltered nights, when their home out in the shimmering woods was new, and safe. When magic seemed to entwine itself in the humming night, before it spilled into their home. Before. Before the world washed away the magic. Before the world pushed out men that would rather steal to replenish, and mutilate and threaten rather than succeed.

Jake forced these thoughts from his head. He substituted his righteous kill with thoughts and dreams of his growing family. Still he didn't dare venture a guess at the gender of the new life growing within his beautiful wife. Jake could've died from happiness the moment Lucinda was placed in his arms. Then he inhaled the intoxicating scent of roses mingling with faint top notes of night blooming jasmine, and he thought for a moment they might be home. However the warmth of her body pressed next to him where he sat on the top landing of the stairs, and he opened his eyes.

Her hair cascaded over her shoulders like a blooming midnight sky, shaded in blue hues of moonshine. Glimmering pale under the light of the lunar illumination, Teresa's skin appeared flawless and lush. It beckoned his fingers where it lay bare and free of the ivory lace of her nightgown. He watched entranced as she took his large white hand in her slender fingers. Teresa pressed the warm soft petals of her lips momentarily to the back of his hand. Her eyes sparkled like rich damp soil, glistening with the teasing glints of coppery gold.

Jake felt every muscle in his body tense, as he stood and followed her smiling form up to the small bedroom. He died in these moments when he found it nearly unbelievable that he had found this kind of unconditional love. These moments that were filled with the unbreakable bond of ever gratifying, ever growing, and ever enchanted love. The ugliness of the world could wait steeped the hot breath of the hounds of hell, scratching at his door. The beauty of the world inside was far more precious.


	16. Chapter 16

***I can't believe this. But someone told me I had to listen to Taylor Swifts new song. And after much hemming and hawing over it (that's not my kind of music) I did. I gotta say, I immediately thought of Jake and renewed my affection for him. So thank you Taylor Swift for helping me to write this chapter. I just had to share that with you.* **

Rubbing his toes together, he felt the chaff of the dusty clay of the street grind about his skin. It caked around the crevices of his feet pushing the grime into streaking currents of new disgusting patterns. With one shoulder lurched towards the night sky, he cocked his head observing the emptiness of the town. Somewhere in this mass of wooden structures was the man that killed his brother.

The moon sliced into the sky barely capable of illuminating the trembling world beneath it. As a whirling breeze whipped passed his face, he stretched his chin up into the air, flaring his nostrils. Surveying the scent of the wind, he caught the familiar floral wafts emanating from the open top floor window of the barbershop. His feet jumbled closer, carrying him as if, of their own volition towards the wooden walk in front of the building. Nails lined in black muck, scratched vertical down the white and red pole, before the fingers elongated and tapped one by one along the banister.

Turning his head towards the street, he observed his fellow cretins as they ventured further into the town than they had on previous nights. Now they pressed their greasy fingers on the clean windows leaving gray smudges of oily filth, marking their stead. Reaching into his well-worn pockets he gingerly removed the rust encrusted blade. The metal wiped clean as he pressed his tongue across the salty metal picking up the dried blood of the woman they had taken from behind the saloon. As the crude blade roughly inserted into the keyhole of the door, he held the frame steady with his free hand and the toes of his foot. Not a sound registered with the deeply sleeping occupants as the metal tumblers gave in to the flat key. Pursing his dry bleeding lips together with a smirk, he pushed the brim of his soiled and weather-beaten cowboy hat up.

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The sunlight warmed his skin as though he had walked through a winter portal into the bright summer meadow. Sparkling as though Jake had never seen grass before, the meadow shimmered like an emerald carpet around his feet. Uneasily his eyes narrowed as they scanned the sloping yellow pathway, leading up to the brick red colored schoolhouse. The slender white oaks hung heavy, with deep jade toned, leaves that rattled cheerily in the warm breeze. Relaxing his shoulders Jake let the corner of his mouth curl upward into an easy smirk.

Children ran in circles, twisting, and relaying up and down the small mossy hill; laughing with all the carefree humor of childhood. Jake sighed trying to recall the source of his previous unease. Flipping back the front flap of his navy jacket, he hooked his thumb into the small pocket of his vest. It was the finest day he had seen in months. Had it been months? His mind seemed fuzzy on certain details as he observed the radiance of youth at play.

Then feeling an impatient tug on his left arm, Jake felt his fingers wrapped tenderly around Lucy's miniature hand. She dug her eager heels into the soft ground as she attempted to pull away from him.

"Pa!" she scrunched her face at him with a pout. "It's just the first day of school! I'm not afraid!"

The first day of school? His brows knit nervously together. The first day without her at the shop. A tiny tension traveled like a worm from his shoulders to his chest tingling ominously at his core. It was something akin to a broken heart and a painful separation. Coming down on his haunches before her, he pushed the brim of his hat back on his head. Cocking an eyebrow, he forced himself to smile warmly into her face.

"Your startin tah get tah be a big girl now," he mused somewhat sadly.

Lucy's face calmed as she dramatically exhaled, shrugging her small shoulders. A knowing smile bowed she soft pink lips, as her bright bluish gray eyes sparkled from beneath the canopy of thick black lashes. Her fingers reached out to his face tracing a line from his auburn temple to his cheek.

"It's just for a little while, Papa," she rolled her eyes never ceasing to smile. She may have her mother's beautiful round features, he reflected fondly, but her expressions were all his. Tilting her head to one side, she ran her little thumb over her chin, thinking to herself. "You'll come see me at lunch won't you Papa?"

Jake smiled happily startled at this. "Sure! We'll have super at Grace's and I'll walk yah back!"

Reluctantly he loosened his grasp on her hand, feeling her touch fade away with the bouncing satin ribbons of her hair as she ran up the hill to her waiting mother. Teresa waved high over her head with the other hand splayed on her yet flat stomach. Rising to his full height, Jake jerked his hand in a short response. His brow furrowed once more seeming to recall something buried under the thick layers of his subconscious. An odd inkling perked up the fine hairs along the back of his neck, giving rise to a slight icy chill, which ran in a current down his spine.

Just as the golden orb seemed to reach it's zenith in the fresh blue sky, Jake felt a shudder. Looking around him at the vividly bright colors in the milieu of his dimensions, he felt an awkwardness about where he stood. He had never seen the grass so perfectly hued before. Although he had never put much stock in the surroundings of the schoolhouse, he was certain those blue, white, and pink starflowers had never been there before. Yet, they did seem oddly familiar as he watched them seem to hover among there emerald nettles lining up against the front of the schoolhouse.

Resting his hands on his narrow hips, Jake watched Lucy who had stopped to observe as a bulky flurry of woolen gray clouds cast over the sun. Slowly gazing skyward, he couldn't believe how quickly the atmosphere, had turned. A deep trepidation filled the world around him as he waited for the storm to break. His rational mind struggled to push him into action. Surely, he should rush Lucy and the other children inside before the rain dropped. Yet there he stood planted firmly into the ground unable even to take a single step forward.

"Lucy!" he shouted struggling to free his feet from their solid but invisible prison. His eyes locked wildly on his unaffected daughter, and she continued to stare blankly up into the sky. Teresa, he thought frantically, as he scanned the now empty front of the schoolhouse. She had vanished, as had all the children in the meadow. "Lucy!"

Feeling like an unmovable giant, Jake cast his upper body forward against the strong gale of wind, sending his unbuttoned jacket flying behind him like a cape. Suddenly out from the corner of his eye, Jake saw him. Lurching across the yellow path like a demon from the depths of hell, echoing the past event with all the fiendish drippings of a menacing creature. As Jess advanced on Lucy's oblivious form, Jake seemed to sink deeper into the moist top layer of grass, until he was waist deep.

"Don't you touch her!" he clawed at the ground gnashing his fingers through the dirt bringing up shredded earthworms and torn roots. "I'll kill you again if you touch her!"

Jake shrieked choking on his dying words as he watched in horror as Jess cast his designing shadow over Lucy's now shocked expression. A pleading look on Lucy's face was the last thing Jake saw, before the crash of shattering glass tore him from his nightmare. But it was Lucy's scream that had him thundering out the door and into her bedroom.


	17. Chapter 17

The sky erupted in opalescent shades of orange and gossamer swirls of peach which were lined in golden trims of the slowly rising dawn. The air was misted with fresh musky scents that accented with the sparkling dew that highlighted the heavy boughs of the trees that swooped down and scratched at the windows of the Gazette. Even in such trying times, Cloud Dancing couldn't fathom how the town could sleep through the beauty of the rising sun. He walked light footed down the steps of the small platform, his eyes absorbing the richness of this crisp morning. Stopping momentarily to peer into the windows of the clinic, he sighed observing how Michaela's family still slumbered in their warm makeshift cots by the furnace.

Cloud Dancing rubbed his chilled palms together, as he sauntered towards the barbershop. Like most mornings when Jake stayed in town, Cloud Dancing knew he would be tinkering around the shop. Licking his lips, he found himself already salivating over the bitter brew of strong coffee, which was usually waiting for him on the rail by the striped poll. Mornings such as these were always spent in silent camaraderie, as they stood casually sentinel, admiring the changing colors of the sky. Then when the last of the dying embers where chased away by the cool blue waters of the day breaking sky, and the last of the bitter brew slid warmly down their throats; they nodded to one another with a bonded understanding before going their separate ways for the day. Although these rituals were no secret, they were never spoken of. The bonding of men is often simple and artistically devoid of deeply excited eccentricity, though just as heartfelt and just as meaningful.

As his moccasin feet stepped down from the grayed wooden walk of the clinic and onto the shifting rouged dirt of the street, he paused suddenly uncertain. Although the doors to the shop were wide open, Cloud Dancing found no sign of his usual blue metal mug balanced on the thick round rail. There was no movement within and nothing to signify that Jake had merely fallen behind schedule. Caution ruled his stead as he approached the shade of the walk without a sound. Nostrils flaring Cloud Dancing sniffed the air detecting not a scent of freshly brewed coffee emanating from the pot-bellied stove.

Crossing the shadow-tinted threshold, he scanned the front room finding everything as it had always been since everyday passed. Yet there was something odd in the quiet of the structure. As his feet carried him up the stairs, Cloud Dancing felt a pressure envelope his body pushing down on his head until he reached the landing. Until he felt, the broken ceramic pieces of a water pitcher crumble under his foot. The padded rawhide of his moccasins soaked up the spent water which had mingled with tiny droplets of crimson matter. Shoulders slumped, Cloud Dancing bit down on the inside of his cheek, as he realized whatever had happened was over and done with. The strings of this family had been severed, however briefly, however viciously.

"Lucy?" he called to the little one first listening vainly for an answer. "Young one you must answer me!"

Silence reigned at deafening heights causing his ears to ring with the anticipation. Venturing further into the retreating darkness of the small front bedroom, he knew to be Lucy's; his eyes fell solemnly on Jake's unmoving body. How many times would he happen upon this man on the floor? Falling to his knees, he strained as he twisted Jake onto his back. His eyes twitched as his head rolled to one side revealing the matted patch of bloodied hash on his head. Jake had been struck down with the water pitcher no doubt, Cloud Dancing thought briefly. Laying down an ear to Jake's chest, he sighed with relief at the strength with which his heart pounded. Satisfied with Jake's stability he searched the room frantically for Lucy.

"Lucy!" he was beginning to lose his calm as he found nothing but floor underneath her bed. "Lucy! Young one come out! Now!"

Closing his eyes, he listened to the sound of confused shuffling as Jake began to break into consciousness. He rushed to his side helping him to stand on his bare feet. Jake strained to focus, as the events of the night laced together, causing him to look about the room with alarm. "Where is my child?"

"I have been calling out to her but no answer," Cloud Dancing offered with a drastic quake in his throat. "I have only just come on all this!"

The panic Jake felt burned white hot throughout his body, clearing out the fog in his mind. Every ounce of being shocked itself into a fear-tinged stroke as he shouted for his girl. More silence. Jake felt as though he were tugging on her rope only to find the fringed break where she should have been. Desperation set in as he became aware of the fact that one less person was in the room.

Rushing into the main bedroom the two men froze at the threshold. Jake shuddered at the sight of Teresa's limp hand, as it rested awkwardly behind the bedpost on the floor. A small pond of crimson cradled in the palm of her upturned hand. Eye's welling up with angry tears; Jake stepped closer into the room. From a distance, he heard Cloud Dancing announce his departure for help. Yet at this moment, nothing could tear him from his morbid approach. His lips trembled, as he tasted the salty tears which were rolling unchecked down his cheeks.

Finally unable to bare the suspense Jake broke free of his cautious stupor and slid down to the ground grabbing up Teresa's fallen form. Her hair had fallen in an ebony waterfall shaken and disheveled down her back. Jake's clammy fingers shook as they gathered around her face tilting it up so he could survey the damage. Once these lips blushed plump with health and now he found them purple and torn. As her head fell back limp as a wilted stem he could just make out the blackening purple blooms where the fiend's fingers had wrapped around her neck.

Jake cried out expelling a demon of vengeance that set the walls to shivering and the glass in the panes near to breaking. His wail reached the ears of those rushing to his aid filling them with the darkness of his pain. It was a wail drenched in anguish and despair, reeking with sadistic agony. With his arms hooked under hers, he pulled Teresa up to his chest where she lay motionless as a doll in his embrace. Tucked into the crook of his neck, he held her head drenching her hair with his unending tears.

"Jake," Michaela's voice quivered. She fought back the glimmering pools that threatened to gather in the windows of her eyes. Softly her dainty hands attempted to tug Teresa's body away from Jake's grasp. Only his body wrenched away from her, holding Teresa as he continued to sob angrily. "Jake, please I need to see if I can help."

It wasn't until he felt the sudden twitch of her eyelashes against his cheek that he relented to Michaela. Crestfallen at the sight, Michaela gingerly pressed the knob end of the stethoscope close to Teresa's breast. Jake raked one bloodied hand through his hair wincing at the pain emanating from the spilt in his scalp.

"Is she," he gulped swallowing back his aching sobs.

Gently Michaela prodded her neck feeling the bones one by one through the tender bruises of her skin. Finally dispelling a relieved sigh, she grasped Jake by his shaking shoulder. "Her neck is not broken. She's alive, Jake! She's alive!"


	18. Chapter 18

She knew she should cry, deep down at her core where she knew her fear dwelled. Yet anger ruled her stead as she was jostled about by the arms of her captors. They held her up under her armpits laughing greedily with their ugly faces as they passed her off into the next pair of filthy hands. Lucy squeezed her eyes together remembering the sound of her mother's choking gasps as that man strangled her into submission. The tears that ran down her face were hot with anger which reflected in the fiery sneer she wore like a shield on her face. Jake's stubborn temper reared up within her, as they unceremoniously dumped her down on the upturned roots of two coupled aspens. Her eyes narrowed as she defiantly looked up into the mad eyes of the man who hurt her mother.

Looming from beneath the crust of smudged skin, and swimming in the milky crimson moss of his eyes, where two of the blackest irises Lucy had ever seen. They observed her like two menacing disks, as she unflinchingly seared in his presence. Refusing to back away from him, she watched as he knelt down in the damp uneven earth at her feet. His cracked lips stretched into a dark smile, revealing the lingering traces of her mother's blood in the corners of his mouth. Although his clothes were decrepitly shattered beyond civility, she recognized him as the tattered version of the cowboys from Katie's hand-me-down dime pamphlets. Her hand flew to her nose as a strong breeze forced his mildew stained scent up her nose. Lucy's flinched her eyes growing round with the sudden knowledge, that she had smell this odor before.

"You ain't afraid o' me are yah, half-breed?" his voice crusted over in a raspy growl.

"Why should I?" she demanded crossing her legs under her nightdress, like Cloud Dancing, when he sat with her and Katie in the meadow.

A hacking gurgle rose in his throat causing him to turn his greasy head and spit lushly onto the ground. His lips slid like two fleshy worms into a crooked smile. Lucy straightened her back willfully, expecting to be bound at any moment. Yet something in the way that he seemed to scrutinize her every detail, made her nervous. Made her want to become better aware of her surroundings. Cautiously she peered around his bowed body at the five men digging in the dirt behind him.

There hands clawed at the loose soil packing it around there bodies in a hunt for some treasure buried in the center. Feeling a shudder Lucy watched as they yanked the stained burlap satchels from their graves and began devouring the unseen contents with their mud-encrusted hands. With her attention completely mesmerized by the animalistic outlaws, Lucy was taken off guard by the rough jerk of the black-eyed man, as he yanked one of her moccasins from her foot. He surveyed the tiny fawn colored hide, running his finger along the delicately sewn turquoise beads. Lids narrowing, he raised a black brow before grabbing Lucy by the front of her nightdress. Pulling her up to his face he began investigating her features more closely, coming to some conclusion in his conniving brain.

"Yah Ma? She weren't no Mexican was she," he was addressing the air rather than her. "She looked Mexican."

"She is," Lucy swatted at his grimy hand attempting to retrieve her moccasin. "My grandpa made those for me!"

At this sudden revelation, the black-eyed man tilted his head in much the manner of a confused dog. Finally seeming to loose his composer, he shook her until she quieted with her arms at her sides.

"What is yah gran'pah?" he asked rising to his feet before releasing her. "He injun?"

Lucy stepped back leaning her shoulder against the tiny gap of the coupled aspens. Her loose ringlets fell forward helping to hide her face as she withheld a smile. The black-eyed man towered over her, his body battling over alarm and unmitigated fury. "Answer me child!"

Without fear, she held out her hand waiting for him to return her moccasin. The simple gesture pushed the tattered outlaw to the brink, as he tossed the rawhide slipper into the darkness of the woods. He racked his brain picturing every inch of the town and every townsperson he watched through their windows as they slept. Not once had he seen an Indian or any sign of one. If what the half-breed said was true, they were being tracked. Grabbing Lucy by the wrist, he dragged her along tossing her into the startled arms of one of the men.

"Hold her on yer shoulders. Never let her touch the ground!" the black-eyed man yelled motioning for every man to rise. "We're bein' tracked. Let's get movin boys!"

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His insides sang with furry as they split his agony in two separate directions. Feeling the cool trickle of wetness slid down through the forest of his autumn hair and stream along his cheek, Jake continued his jerking pace up and down the gray weathered walk. Now and then, he slammed his flat palm into the charcoal post, as he nervously watched Hank and Sully rushing back and forth between the Mercantile and the livery. Once again, the muffled rush of Michaela's hurried heels pierced through the door, wrenching his attention back to the fact that she was attending to his ailing wife. Drawing closer to the door Jake dug his nails into the closest post, ignoring the slicing pain, as splinters in the worn wood pricked under his bloodied nails.

Pressing his back to the cobbled wall by the door, he leant his aching head back against a smoothed round rock. His chest tightened, as he recalled the image of the growing stain of scarlet, which grew ominously in Teresa's lap. Jake pushed that horror aside as he narrowed his line of sight on Sully, as he flung excitedly about packing Jake's horse for him. Pursing his lips, he pushed himself off the wall as he paced down the walk towards an oncoming Hank.

Hank strutted across the street flipping the collar of his cream-colored trench up under his waves of flax and sandy locks. His hand trembled angrily as he handed Jake his loaded gun belt and suede Stetson. Tossing the Stetson onto the waiting bench Jake lifted the bullet-lined belt before his face. It was coming to this again. More blood, to stain his hands. Yet he would bath in it, if he got his girl back safe and sound.

"Just say the word, Jake," his silky husk of a voice dripped with the heat of his temper. "An I'll go with yah."

Jake shook his head as he buckled the leather strap around his narrow waist, under his ivory riding jacket. "Someone needs to stay in town. . ."

Looking to Hank questioningly, he wondered if he should dare to ask.

But Hank raised an eyebrow at this as he smiled crookedly, feeling tinges of warmth at the situation. He thumbed the nickel handle of his colt, nodding menacingly at his meaning. "I'll stay out here all night, if I hafta."

Jake nodded his appreciation as he pressed his lips together, praying Michaela would come out before Sully waved readily for them to leave. The anticipation raked fiendishly at Jake's nerves as his eyes darted between the clinic door and his horse tethered loosely at its post. When he thought of his little girl at the mercy of the murderous whims of those maniacs, his whole body quaked. Completely engrossed in his torturous thoughts, he nearly jumped out of his skin at the sudden appearance of Cloud Dancing at his side.

"You will need this," the somber man handed Jake a glinting bone handled buck knife. "Strap it to your ankle."

The wide plumed blade felt heavy and foreign in his hand. Running his fingers along the deeply engraved circled shapes and zigzagged borders, Jake gave Cloud Dancing a puzzled look. About to hand it back Jake winced, as Cloud Dancing smacked a goodly amount of yarrow paste onto his bleeding head wound. Awe struck, Jake watched as he picked up his Stetson and turned it this way and that in his brown hands. Finally discovering the front of the hat, Cloud Dancing plopped it firmly on Jakes head.

"There is no time to sew up the wound," he stated matter of fact before walking off towards Sully.

Jake turned speechlessly to Hank who sat sprawled out on the bench with an amused expression on his face. "Suppose that's what happens when yah adopt yer in-laws."

"Jake?" Michaela called calmly from the threshold of the clinic.

He rushed forward unable to contain himself as he grabbed her by her slender shoulders. Never loosing her tidy composer, she backed away from him, as she ushered him into the clinic.

"I've managed to stop the bleeding for now. The baby is going to be okay Jake," she forced a smile as she tucked the white blanket more firmly under Teresa's feet. "She's sleeping comfortably."

Jake ran his finger gingerly down Teresa's ashen cheek, as he struggled to push back the tears that were welling up in his eyes. Her skin was deathly white, under the midnight cloak of her hair. Brushing his lips tenderly against her nearly translucent lids, Jake whispered warmly into her ear. "I'm bringing our baby home. If I gotta move heaven and hell tah do it. I'm bringing our girl home to her mamma."

Burying his face in her hair he inhaled her scent trying to memorize her essence before he had to leave. "Everything I am, I am cause ah you. And I have never loved another woman as much as I love you, Teresa. . . Please don't leave me. Please be here when I get back."

As the door creaked gently open, Jake caressed her bruised temple with his thumb. He'd never known love until this lovely creature whirled into his life. Never known what it was to be cared for, to be wanted. She brought warmth and life to a cold lonely man. Turning to Michaela with a pleading look pulling down his face, Jake begged her, "Please, Dr. Mike. Don't let her die."

"Jake I'll do everything I can," she fidgeted uncomfortably, and unwilling to make a promise she couldn't keep.

At the sound of Sully clearing his throat, signaling it was time, Jake pressed his lips as lovingly as he could to her forehead. It took every ounce of strength to rip himself from the room. But it was his child that had him running for his horse.


	19. Chapter 19

***Maria, thank you for all your kind words. I just wanted you to know that I appreciate your reviews. It makes me so happy to know that you like the way I've written Jake. I enjoy hearing from you. Thank you again~S5M* **

"I have followed their tracks as far as the creek," Cloud Dancing relayed swooping down from his horse. They had ridden out for miles before Cloud Dancing broke off ahead of Jake and Sully, in order to stealthily recon the situation. "There is a small clearing off to the side where they will have stopped. That is where we will leave the horses and continue on foot."

The sun had dipped low in the sky glowing fatly like an ember, casting its orange glaze across the evening sky. Traveling along deer trails all day, in order to avoid detection, meant thin steep nearly invisible pathways. Jake still hadn't a clue how Sully and Cloud Dancing knew where they were going, but he trusted in their unfailing knowledge. The trails were broken and sporadic almost seeming as though they were wandering through a labyrinth of trees, bulging mammoth's of boulders, and ubiquitous stashes of thorny questionable thickets. Twice they were made to freeze stashed amongst a thick tangled copse, waiting out the passing of a stalking mountain lion in their midst.

Now at Cloud Dancing's revelation, Jake felt grateful to be so near to relieving his aching posterior of his saddle. Following the open creek into the shaded archway of bracken woods, they broke into the small clearing. Jake jumped down, squatting on his haunches, in order to stretch out his thigh muscles. Upon rising, he twisted his back one way then the other, before joining Sully, who had crouched down at the raised roots of two coupled aspens.

"What is it?" Jake felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Is it them?"

Sully observed the almost nonexistent swirls in the dirt. He pointed to a small peanut shaped imprint in the earth. "Someone small was here. That's a child's barefoot."

"The child is Lucy," Cloud Dancing exhaled as he struggled out of a nearby thicket. His hand clutched at a small fallow cloth. Jake swallowed as Cloud Dancing begrudgingly placed Lucy's tiny moccasin in his large gloved hand. Closing his eyes against the scintilla of rage welling up inside his chest, Jake pressed the velvety rawhide between his thumb and forefinger.

"Her-Her feet get cold at night," Jake said to know one in particular. "I put them on her myself before she went to bed."

Sully patted Jake knowingly on his good shoulder. His mind raced back to a time when he'd nearly lost his own sweet girl. Exchanging worried glances with Cloud Dancing, Sully wrapped his arms around his chest. Other than the obvious signs that Lucy had been in the clearing, there were no tracks showing her leaving with the other adult tracks. Sully watched as Jake tormented himself with his daughter's tiny article, and was loath to bring up the fact that they should search along the creek for traces of Lucy.

"They have been digging here," Cloud Dancing called attention to the mass of disturbed soil near the center. After a beat, he shot up abruptly ushering Sully and Jake to move on. "We should continue on our way."

With the horses secured, the trio moved on through the brush, one after the other keeping to the narrows of the trees. A rainbow mesh of purple, gray, and blue filled the sky, casting the woods under a blanket of shear blackness. As the last of the dim blue light disappeared under the moonless sky, Cloud Dancing halted, no longer able to see his own hand stretched before him.

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Lucy squeezed her eyes against the pitch-blackness of the night. Her mind strove to pass through the passages of her memory to find a comforting memory. Trembling in the arms of this odorous body, she attempted to shift in his rake like arms. The man snapped her back up over his shoulder like a burlap sack, rumbling bitterly over the ach in his arms, from having to carry her the last mile. Although the word irony was not in her vernacular, the action playing out in her situation was not lost on her.

Moonless nights were the worst for her. The ebony abyss that engulfed her room would always send her imagination into a surfeit of creation, weaving unknown horrors in her blindness. But it was the fear that sent her feet running into the fray, with some clutching force needling at her back. Heart racing like the frantic wings of a humming bird, she'd burst through her parents bedroom door. Lucy held on to the sensation of that memory, as she was passed on to another mans peppery smelling shoulders.

Her parent's bed. It was almost as though her father had been waiting for her to come into their room. Somehow, she always managed to run right into his open hands. Hands that lifted her effortlessly, up over his body, and into the warmth between himself and her mother. She held closely to the memory of nestling close to the wall of her father's chest. Burying her face in the cleave of his neck, and feeling the racking vibrations of his stubbly throat as he snored. Her hand would reach out across the pillows gap and tangle sleepily in the satin ribbons that were her mother's hair. It was safe in the barrier their bodies created around her. There was no other sense of security in the world like her parents. Even their mingled scents, of roses and musky leather, drove her into tantalizing submissions of sleep.

The newest human mule jabbed her in the ribs with his thumb as he adjusted her draped body further against his neck. Lucy sniffed at the shattered and fading memory before she decided to let her fear carry her feet. Lifting the upper half of her body, she twisted, bringing her clawed hands up instantly. Her nails dug under his eyelids, pushing ever deeper, until she felt the gelatin like skin of his eyeballs burst. His ailing shriek ripped through the air, echoing in her ears as she dropped to the wet uneven ground.

Jumping to her feet Lucy jumbled and smacked roughly into their confused legs, until she was able to break free of their shouting and reaching grasps. Her back tingled in anticipation of physical contact as she followed the down slope of the earth, Cloud Dancing had always warned her, meant she was nearing the creek. With the echoes of her captor's angry expletives, fading fast into the background, Lucy stopped with her back against the smooth flaking bark of a white oak. She shivered in the thick of blackness unable even to see an inch in front of her. The toes of her bare foot prodded at the slight slope feeling for the direction of the incline, so that she could crawl down. Somewhere in the night, Lucy heard the distant trickle of water splashing on rock. Coming down as low as she could without getting on her hands and knees, she follow the sound like a beckon in the abyss.

Then the ground began to vibrate, under the thunderous crack of a gunshot, with the approach of frantic feet. They were pursuing her once more, with all the sadistic vigor of shadowed demons. Her pulse raced in unmitigated terror as she narrowly avoided crashing into a squat flat boulder in her path. Run her mind screamed at her feet. Somewhere would be the creek that led to home. Somewhere would be her father's waiting hands. Somewhere.


	20. Chapter 20

"Now we must rely on our remaining senses," Cloud Dancing's voice warned beneath the darkness.

"Jake," Sully backed up blindly feeling around until he grasped Jake by the wrist. "Take off your boots an' leav'em."

"What!?" he demanded of the odd request. Jake shifted feeling a dull ach emanating from his hurt shoulder as Sully tugged on his wrist.

Sully rolled his eyes, stinging with a slight impatience at having to explain. "You need to feel the difference in the way the ground shifts, now. Boots'll make yah clumsy. You'll slow us down."

"Fine," he relented, arresting his arm free of Sully's grasp before his fingers began to fumble in the darkness for his laces. His fingers fought the stubborn knot until the round braided fibers knitted themselves into an immoveable bundle. Jake swore under his breath, until Sully felt his way over. Pushing Jake's hands aside Sully sliced confidently with his tomahawk, through each crossed lace and woven bundle freeing Jake's foot. Following suit with the other he happily patted what he hoped was Jake's knee.

"Remember," Cloud Dancing called from a distance, having already moved ahead. "Stay with the northern slope until I signal you."

Jake crept along awkwardly at first, feeling every sharp rock, and adhering twig along the way. Twice his toes smashed flatly into well-fortified stones, forcing him to purse his lips, in order to avoid drawing attention to their whereabouts. They moved in tandem gliding over boulders, and crawling along the upturned roots and fallen trunks of trees. Feeling the pressure of the murky blackness on his face, Jake longed to brush it away from his line of sight, if only to make out the blue outlines of the rugged obstacles in his path.

Suddenly an odd hoot, warbled down through the trees, halting Sully and Jake in their tracks. Together they froze listening through the echoing hum of crickets and other nocturnal creatures chattering and chewing in an eclectic chorus around them. Somewhere ahead the woodland choir was beginning to die down, under a palpating caution. The atmosphere around them grew thick with a straining apprehension. Finding themselves under a cone of silence, an eerie essence of danger loomed around them, buzzing a bass like frequency against their bodies.

Then they heard it. The shriek rose up like a beckon before it fell like acid rain through the boughs of the trees and filled the wilderness with edgy terror. It dripped with the hue of rusty daggers, and continued in a shredded ailed pulse. As the shriek died away a crescendo of wild, confusion permeated through the trees, thumping along the ground. Jake and Sully rushed forward nearly slamming into Cloud Dancing as he lurked around the tilted trunk of an oak. Arm outstretched, he stayed their panic, pointing to a rather large gaping pathway of trees. The wideness of the spacing spread just enough to allow a dim cobalt hue of light from the shining stars above. Finally, through the pillared canopy, running franticly, black shadows of men hunting sporadically for something.

"There's only five?" Sully whispered completely stunned, into Cloud Dancing's ear.

He nodded solemnly turning, "There were six . . ., but the tall one there shot one in the face. These men are not well. They are like rabid beasts wandering in the wilderness without guidance. Beasts turned mad. There will be no reasoning. And that is not the worst of all."

Jake jerked his head up at this. Like a reflex, his hand flew to his gun, only to find Sully's steady hand holding him back. His mind calmed reminding himself why he had chosen to stand with these two men. For his daughter, and for his wife; no longer could he rush unthinking into the fray. That ignorance was reminiscent of the Jake of the past. The man that was alone, had nothing to loose, and thought he had nothing to gain. He must think now, for Lucy. Allowing his hand to fall in surrender at his side, Jake gazed questioningly into Cloud Dancing's patient face. "What's the worst?"

"The young one is not here."

"You're not sayin," Jake's heart stopped in his chest.

"Time to move forward," Cloud Dancing answered, hiding his alarm as he shook his head.

"Jake," Sully steadied his friend. "We can't do anything until we know where Lucy is."

Together they watched as the last scarecrow exited the pathway, down towards the southern slope leading towards the creek. Breaking down into the gaping path, Jake stumbled as his eyes fell on the strewn body. Cloud Dancing knelt down examining the man shattered face. Narrowing his eyes against the task at hand, he lifted what was left of the man eyelids, revealing the burst milky orbs. With a pronounce exhale Cloud Dancing smiled up at Jake, as relief washed over his body.

Sully who had been mentally mapping out the area ahead down the slope, turned suddenly aware of the light shift from tension to hope. "Why are you smiling?"

"This man's eyes have been pierced. That is why they shot him. Injury was far too costly to help him," he continued to beam up at Sully and Jake's gawking expressions. "The young one has escaped. Just as I have taught her."

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Sparkling like a strip of the starry night sky, the creek illuminated every rock and tree in the vicinity. Her sticky white hands dipped into the lapis liquid, washing away the milky fluids of her deed. Lucy shivered as she shook out her wet hands before wiping them dry on her nightdress. With the water this low, she wondered if she could simply leap frog along the boulders, in order to reach the other side. Cloud Dancing's voice rang strongly in her head, 'Crossing over water often erases one's tracks.'

Sinking her feet down into the muddy soiled shore, Lucy hesitated feeling a strange tug, urging her to rethink this tactic. Turning her head back to the shadow of trees behind her, she felt her nerves surge with fear. It was them. They were coming. With her instincts taking over, Lucy took the first step to erasing her tracks.


	21. Chapter 21

Spreading out, they followed the down slope towards the creek bed. Their prey, only yards away, never knew what was coming up behind them. As they cloaked themselves under the hum of the wooded night, they moved silently, each knowing their designated task. Cloud Dancing kept to the trees swooping just beyond the high branches, seeming to fly as he swayed through the high grounds flanking his quarry. Jumping freely over upturned branches and plodded boulders, Sully sprinted light as a deer, springing stealthily behind the straggling men. However, it was Jake who stalked with purpose, tall and steady as a bear after his cub. He made no effort to hide his position, nor did he hesitate when his intended prey turned to face him with horrid shock. With the blunt handle of his gun, Jake struck the man, full force on the crown of his head, dropping him to soft ground before he could utter a single word. Jake stepped over the stricken man without a second thought, as he continued to advance forward.

Springing nibble as a jackrabbit, Sully swooped down on one which had fallen behind. As he descended, his hand clamped like an iron vise on the filth-encrusted mouth of the outlaw, bringing him silently to his feet. Sully curled his arm around his neck flexing his muscles tighter and tighter until the constriction caused his intended to lose all consciousness, and flop limp as wilted lettuce. He dragged the man back a few feet securing him firmly to Jake's forgotten game. It was only seconds before Sully was back to springing light as air over the thickets, grassy dips, and stone masses, hardly losing a beat to catch up.

The remaining three moved unknowing through the wilderness, searching and yelling half-breed into the night. Cloud Dancing's blood boiled as he kept vigil, waiting for one to separate from the trio. His patience waning he encircled a wide burnt oak, and snatch the last body passing. Cutting the man's startled curses short as he knocked him forcibly face first into the oak's trunk; he allowed the body to tumble down into Sully's waiting arms. Once again, like a spider gathering flies in his web, Sully tethered another body to the other human bundle.

Now with the creek announcing its existence with the trickling notes of its flowing waters, the black-eyed man and his endangered accomplice stood examining the muddy banks. Instinctively, Jake licked the tip of his thumb before tapping it to the sight of his colt. The iron barrel lined up perfectly with the black-eyed man's chest. Jake whistled low alerting the men of his intentions, as Sully and Cloud Dancing emerged from the camouflage of the trees.

"Where's my daughter!" Jake demanded releasing the gun's safety.

"That little half-breed?" the black-eyed man taunted him, as he grinned. "She about as dead as my brother."

"He's lyin' Jake," Sully called attempting to neutralize the situation. "He doesn't know where she is."

"That lil' Mexican wife of yours sure can kiss," he laughed blackly continuing to jab at Jake. "Her lips tasted sweet as honey from the hive. Ain't that funny? Cause I woulda thought what with her bein' Mexican her blood woulda been spicy."

Jake's mind flashed back to the sight of what had been done to Teresa. How her lips had been swollen and bleeding from the tapered slits of torn flesh. The way this monster had marked her delicate skin with his disgusting hands. Jake narrowed his eyes on the villain before him as he continued his perverted revelation of the night before.

"She was a mighty pretty lil' Clementine, I gotta say. Right mighty strong too. Yah know, while I's chokin' her, she was kickin' and slappin' all the way down. Ain't that so," the maniacal fiend nudged his partner in the ribs. "Did your lil' bun make it? Bet your regretin' what yah done tah my brother Jess, ain't yah? Mayor Barber."

Mayor Barber. Mayor Barber. Mayor Barber. Every muscle in Jake's body froze as his eye's shifted to the man shuffling his feet next to the fiend. He averted his face from Jake's searching gaze. This man was familiar, had stood on the walk in front of the barbershop all those days ago. Quiet as a scarecrow, beside his friend, Jess as he offered Lucy her ball. Taking a step forward, Jake lowered his weapon, willing the man to look him in the face.

"Because I wouldn't let you two rob me?" Jake was aghast with the knowledge. Turning back to the black-eyed man he fumed, "Your brother was going to shoot my wife! And hurt innocent children!"

"Ain't nothin' tah me mister. Blood is blood. And this is how yah use a colt," his hand flung into his weathered vest so fast Jake and Sully hardly had a chance to blink. The barrel connected with his partner's chest muffling the hammer like explosion of the shot as his body flung backwards plummeting into the creek. Jerking back into attention Jake armed himself behind his pistol once more edging closer to Sully, who crouched down tightening his grip on the wooden handle of his tomahawk. Shifting his sights between Sully and Jake, the black-eyed man chuckled to himself, "All matters is my blood. An' Jess was mine. Yah take my blood an' I take yours."

Jake and Sully exchanged glances before Jake began to take steps closer to the creek. Drawing the sights of the outlaw's gun, Jake struggled to maintain the white-hot corona of anger, welling up from his core. "If you've laid a hand on my daughter, I'll kill yah myself. Just like I killed your brother."

The black-eyed man's trigger finger was fast, curling around the slick iron curl. But Sully's arm was faster, as he threw the tomahawk with all the speed and swiftness of the wind. The axed blade spun, sliding in sharp wheels through the air, slicing through grimy flesh and bone, severing the man's hand from his wrist. Together they watched as the cleanly cut hand and gun plopped with a smack into the mud of the bank. Enraged the black-eyed man charged a shell shocked Jake, grabbing for the colt, completely unfazed by his bleeding stump. Jake struggled lifting the colt above his head while the deranged outlaw's only hand clasped boldly to his wrist. They fell to the ground, wrestling one over the other, until Jake found himself on bottom. The stumped arm came forcefully down on Jake's throat pressing on his windpipe. Unrelenting the fiend shoved down into his ribcage with his knee, giving Jake the chance to rock over on his side. Finally free of pressure Jake flung the colt into the darkness of the tree line, hoping to eliminate one factor of threat. But the man could not be stopped.

Sully flew forward attempting to tackle him down only to be side swiped into the creek bed with a numbing splash. The black-eyed man turned back to Jake towering with victory as he advanced gnashing his gaping yellow teeth with relish at his jugular. Jake knew he would have to be fast, as his fingers came in contact with the smooth cool carved bone handle of the buck knife. Just as the fiend's body flung down, there was a split second when Jake saw her. Lucy, with her arms and legs wrapped around Cloud Dancing's torso as he crossed the creek protectively shielding her line of sight from the struggle. She was alive, and he would have to make this count.


	22. Chapter 22

His long white fingers curled around the bone handle at his ankle. Brows furrowed and misted with sweat, Jake reacted as the weight of the black-eyed man came down on top of him. The thick blade slid in scratching against the bone of his lower ribs, before Jake twisted the handle down against his stomach, bringing the blade up between the lungs. He was so close to the man's furiously distorted face, he could smell the bitter decay of his breath, steaming hotly against his skin. It was the last sign of life, before his black eyes ceased to blaze and fell cold as inky ice.

Jake's entire body slumped down into the wet well of grass and mud. Silently, he waited to feel the same heavy racking guilt that had accompanied such grave finales in the past. It never came. Light driblets of lapis creek water sprinkled down into Jake's now bare head, as Sully lifted the dead weight off his body. He slung the soaked earthy tendrils of hair from his dripping face, as he dragged the body into the tree line away from Lucy's view. Watching Jake start to sit up, Sully turned to watch as Cloud Dancing, knelt down in order to get Lucy on her feet. The child clung to him tightly until he whispered close to her ear, "Look to your Papa, young one."

Lucy spun around releasing Cloud Dancing as she shouted out in jubilation, "Papa! Papa!"

"Lucy?" at the sound of her voice, Jake scrambled on his hands and knees, shambolically crawling towards her. Lucy crashed happily into Jake's open arms, burying her face into the yellowing collar of his ivory riding jacket. Jake's finger's immersed themselves into the glossy midnight ringlets, secretly examining her for injury. Pressing her closer to his chest, he felt a near to bursting joy and sense of incredible relief. Finally, she pulled away so that she could see her father, one side of her mouth pulled up into a genetically familiar smirk. Jake cupped her head in his large hands, no longer able to contain himself. Peppering her little face with kisses and squeezing her to him once more, she giggled reveling in his attentions, which she had missed so much.

Eyes bowing cheerfully, Cloud Dancing observed the subtle shifting of the darkness as it retreated from the growing orange hues of dawn. He rallied close to Sully as they discussed their next move. The fallen men would have to be retrieved later; meanwhile, there was a bundle of three waiting in the woods to be taken back to the jail.

"We ready?" Jake asked hat on head, walking towards them, with a contented Lucy cradled in his arms.

"A moment," Cloud Dancing shuffled up to Jake digging into the pocket of his jacket. His brown gentle fingers wrapped around the small fawn moccasin smoothing out the turquoise beadwork. He smiled as Lucy wiggled her toes happily at him, until he slipped the velvety hide over her foot. "I made these for my little one."

"Thank you Grumpaw," she yawed barely able to fight her drooping eyelids.

Sully smiled patting Cloud Dancing on the back, before they began their hike back up the slope and into the thick of the woods. "I hope you remember where we left your boots," Sully chided Jake.

He raised his eyebrows optimistically, "Yah think they're still there?"

"Sure," Sully grinned adjusting his tomahawk under the cling of his wet clothes. "There's some bramble vines in the area you can use for lacing."

"Right," Jake grumbled under his breath recalling what had become of his laces.

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The thick hard wood of the bench creaked under his weight, as he shifted sorely on his rump. True to his word, he hadn't moved from the front of the clinic, since he'd helped carry Teresa up to one of the recovery rooms, for Michaela. Now as Hank stared numbly up at the amber sky erupting with bright periwinkle blue, his teeth gnawed absently on the small cigar in his mouth. Tiny flakes of tobacco came apart on his tongue mixing like ashes with his saliva. Briefly, Hank rolled his eyes, slanting them into an unusable state, and his mind drifted off.

Now and then pictures of what was done to Teresa flash before him, making his stomach rile in despair. If he were Jake, he'd be out there in the wild's painting the woods red with their blood. However, this later Jake no longer had the stomach for such reckless upheaval. A bitter acrid taste filled Hank's mouth, forcing him to spit the spent knob of the cigar out across the walk and into the dry dusky dirt. Although Jake's new company unsettled him, he had to admit, they'd never failed to make him feel he was being look after. When had a Christmas ever passed that Teresa hadn't invited him to stay up at the homestead for a meal and warm bed? A winter never gone by without that kid of Jake's poking her cute head mischievously into the saloon to bring him a newly made, if not misshapen, scarf. Hank stood alert, feeling quite resolved that they were as good as his family too. He might not admit to it out loud, or ever voice his gratitude in a way Michaela might put it, but he would know. That was good enough for him.

Hank grinned a little surprised at himself, as he tucked a wavy flaxen strand of hair behind his ear. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't registered the sound of the clinic door opening, or the gentle plodding of her boots as she made her way down the walk towards him.

"Hank?" Michaela jostled him from his thoughts. "You're in a good mood."

Composing himself, he nonchalantly leant against the grayed post pressing his smiling lips together. He drank in her worn expression, and fidgeting hands as she clasped them down in front of her skirt. Hank raised his sandy eyebrow at the agitation in her disposition. From where he'd stood guard all night he could hear Teresa's feverish outcries for Lucy and Jake. He couldn't imagine Michaela and Katie had gotten much sleep. However, it had occurred to him that she had fallen silent quite suddenly during the twilight hours before dawn. Smile fading fast, Hank straighten on his feet.

"What is it Michaela?" his eyes shifted upwards as though he could see through the clinic walls to Teresa's room. "She ain't gonna make it huh."

Michaela shook her head solemnly. "No Hank, it isn't that at all. In fact I have all the faith that she will be up on her feet within a week or two."

Hank hesitated unsure if he really wanted to know, "and the baby?"

Michaela bit her lower lip, uneasy about sharing such delicate information with Hank. Yet, she was sure she'd detected a flash of hastily hidden concern, in the crystalline pools of Hank's eyes. "There . . . was. . . some bleeding last night. I was able to stop it, however I would feel much more secure when Jake arrives with Lucy."

"Well how's that gonna help?" Hank's tone rose with exasperation.

"Well Hank, often times stress is a common factor in complicating a pregnancy," Michaela and Hank froze feeling the vibration of horse's hooves hurtling up the main street of the town. Accompanying one another out into the yet vacant street, Hank swore under his breath.

"It's about damn time," he exhaled searching in the inner breast pockets of his cream-colored trench coat. As he placed a fresh unlit cigar between his lips, he vaguely registered the unease in Michaela's demeanor, upon seeing the coming soldiers. Hank narrowed his eyes in disappointment as he counted them. "They only sent four?"

"Unfortunately, that's all it takes," Michaela slumped her shoulders with worry.


	23. Chapter 23

The horse's hooves kicked up the dirt around their feet, causing Michaela to step back unintentionally under Hank's shadow. With her hand shielding her eyes against the sun, she peered up into the dusky irritate face of a private. The intensity of his electric green eyes stood in stark contrast with the ruddy dust of the road, which stained his alabaster face. She watched as he yanked angrily at the graying handkerchief at his throat before wiping it under the billed brim of his cap. Shoving the soiled cloth down into the open collar of his navy coat, the private exhaled, sneering down at Michaela and Hank.

"We're looking for a man name of Jake Slicker," the irate private shuffled his horse closer to the pair.

"You're too late," Hank popped the collar of his trench up.

"A child was taken," Michaela, reasoned stepping between Hank and the restless horse. "The mother was badly beaten. Mr. Slicker took two men out with him to retrieve his daughter."

Hank and the private stared at her with a start. Shifting his wily eyes from the shocked private to Michaela, Hank wondered why she was withholding information. The emerald eyed soldier nervously adjusted his coat as he turned to greet the equally shocked expressions of the three others riding with him. "Our orders relayed nothing about child abduction. We were told the town was being raided and people were dying. In this territory that means injun trouble."

"Ooooh," Hank raised his brow suddenly catching on to Michaela's logic. "Look mister it weren't Indians. They're some kind ah crazy people."

The private observed Hank side long, seeming to size him up as well as committing to memory his appearance. Seeming to come to a conclusion, he nodded to his companions, waiting while they pulled their horses up in front of the Gold Nugget and dismounted. Yet the private slid down slow, bringing his chest down into Hank's personal sphere. He stared blatantly into Hank's face, utterly unmoved by the growing menace in Hank's being. "Well, we'll just wait. And if they don't return by night fall, my men and I will head out."

Michaela's unease slowly began to ebb as the street and walks of the town filled with townspeople going about their business. Some taking notice of the military presence, stopped in their tracks abandoning daily tasks in favor of a little idol eavesdropping. Gently tapping Hank's wrist he backed away recalling his promise to stay close to the clinic for Jake. Together they strode back under the eave of the clinics balcony, each finding every excuse under the sun to turn and watch the soldiers as they grouped together around the opening of the saloon.

"I must check on Teresa," Michaela muttered to Hank as she walked back into the clinic.

Hank pressed his shoulder to the cobbled wall, finally lighting his cigar. He parted his lips blowing out thick tendrils of smoke, which plumed about his face. Surely, this was mere paranoia dancing on his nerves. However, he couldn't shake the feeling that in calling the army they had unwittingly angered a venomous snake.

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The sunlight trickled like gold dust through the trees, casting the mossy green leaves in magical hues of splendor. Finally, breaking out into the open roads through the canyon rocks, they brought the horses to a halt. Although the sunlight felt delightfully warm, it was nothing compared to the little arms, which wrapped around Jake's slim torso. Backing his horse parallel to Cloud Dancing's, Jake twisted around, with one arm holding tightly to Lucy's sleeping form. His eyes fell on their prisoners, each bound by their wrists, staring begrudgingly at Sully as he tugged their hemp leash from his horse.

"If we keep up our pace we should make town by mid afternoon," Sully pulled up his reigns attempting to calm his agitated horse. "We can't risk an overnight with these three and Lucy."

Jake looked to Cloud Dancing waiting for him to weigh in. His tired heavy eyes nodded in agreement, before his eyes flickered with a start. Now that they were in direct light, the sun illuminated the parlor of Jake's skin, betraying the crimson trickle as it ran down his head and passed his ear. Reaching over Cloud Dancing removed Jake's hat revealing the cracked yarrow paste, breaking away from the cut in Jake's scalp. Sully tossed his canteen of water into Cloud Dancing's hands. The medicine man took over then rinsing the wound before prodding at the opening to inspect for healing. Seemly satisfied with his findings, his fingers dipped into his medicine pouch, pulling forth a patch of moss for mending. It was still moist from the fair granite rock of which he had gathered from the clearing before they'd mounted the horses. Patching up the gash, Cloud Dancing replaced Jake's hat on his head, after tossing Sully back his canteen.

"Perhaps I should take the young one for now," Cloud Dancing offered holding out his arms. "You have a hard head. But I worry you will lose your hold."

Jake nodded gathering Lucy up and pressing his warm lips to her forehead. She passed limply into Cloud Dancing's bare arms, never stirring from her slumber. They waited until her body adjusted into the crook of his elbow where she would be secure as they rode. The path curled around the familiar boulders and sporadic copses they had passed the day before in a frenzied fever. Now feeling his relief waning, Jake remembered what was waiting for Lucy and himself.

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Hank watched as Grace sashayed back down the street towards her café. Her hands flitted close to her shoulders with all the air of delicate silk sashes. Chuckling to himself he knew only Grace could walk through town like the Queen of Mardi Gras, bouncing to her own music. His cold fingers pressed tightly around the blue metal mug of hot cider Grace had brought especially for him. The warm steaming tendrils of heat swirled soothingly up his nose and around his face, causing his mouth to salivate. His eyes closed as he brought the warm sweet amber liquid up to his lips. Sweet and tangy, the cider flooded his mouth springing his taste buds to attention, and delectably alerting the tight glands at the base of his jaw. Lord was there anything in the world better than Grace's cider?

Pressing his forehead against a splintered post, Hank felt the gentle plodding of horses cantering closer and closer. Immediately his body shot up as he narrowed his straining vision down towards the opening of the town. All the while, he sensed the soldiers spilling out into the street behind him, detecting the on coming trio. Though he could tell they were slowing into a trot, Hank knew there was no time to warn them.


	24. Chapter 24

"Oh thank god!" Michaela's sudden appearance at his side startled him nearly off balance. The cider sloshed haphazardly from the confines of his mug stinging his skin. Yet Michaela hardly took notice as she beamed at the sight, as Sully, Jake, and a precious bundle holding Cloud Dancing came to a halt just before the clinic. "Is she okay?"

"Dr. Mike. Could yah check her out anyway? Just in case," Jake eyed the soldiers cautiously. Had they arrived before the attack, he might have been grateful to see them; however, as Sully and Cloud Dancing had essentially done there jobs for them, they appeared irate and narrow.

As the three slid down from their mounts, Cloud Dancing passed before the cross private in order to avoid Lucy being near their prisoners. The child stirred shifting to wrap her arms around his neck, as she watched the people gathering around them. Narrowing his gaze at the juxtaposition of this Indian holding a town child rattled the private's fine sensibilities. He moved forward mouth agape ready to lay into the child's father, when Jake interrupted.

"How's Teresa do'in Dr. Mike?" Jake inquired ignoring the way the fair private sniffed at the bundle of exhausted outlaws.

Sully tugged the hemp leash as he brought the men before the milling soldiers. Cocking his eyebrow confidently, the corner of his mouth curled up, with a smirk, as he handed the rope over to the private. However, in the soldier's indignation, he refused to take the rope in hand, forcing Sully to slap it against his chest as he walked by to greet Michaela.

"I think she would fare much better now that you and Lucy are safe," Dr Mike rubbed her elbow, ever watching the way the soldier's attentions focused more on Cloud Dancing than the captured men.

The fair private passed the hemp rope to one of his rougher looking companions, before stepping in front of Cloud Dancing. He eyed him with the demeanor of a cat cornering it's prey. Lucy now fully awake tightened her embrace on Cloud Dancing's neck as she turned her head to spy the surly soldier. She'd seen this look before on the black-eyed man, when he'd observed her with disgust, and uttered the fowl word 'half-breed'. Her body shuddered as she shielded herself against the hatred rolling off the private. His finger darted accusingly at them, "What's this injun doin with this child?!"

A silence cradled the street as Michaela broke forward taking a stance, "Cloud Dancing is a part of this town! A part of our families! You would do well to show him the same respect as you would any other!"

"Is that right?" he continued to use his body to force intimidation on an unmoving Cloud Dancing.

Lucy no longer able to maintain her strength cowered, placing her face into Cloud Dancing's raven's mane, "Grampaw!"

Aghast at this revelation, his lime eyes rounded taking in the features of the pair before him. "Who is the father of this child?"

"I am," Jake pushed passed Hank to stand next to Cloud Dancing. He smiled as he rubbed Lucy's small back, attempting to sooth her. Remaining serene as ever Jake and Cloud Dancing exchanged a look of mutual kinship. With everything they'd been through, and the entire unknown that lay before them, an unmistakable bond had formed. Blood was blood after all, no matter the outer appearance, no matter the wrongs of the past. This was a family, good as if they had been born together. "He's my daughter's grandfather."

"He's **YOUR **kin?" the soldier scoffed about to laugh.

Rolling his eyes Jake turned pushing his Stetson back on his head. With his hands on his hips and his elbows pointed out, Jake towered over the private. His eye's shifted back and forth as the corner of his mouth curled upward, in a devilish grin. "What's thah matter. Can't you see the resemblance?"

Hank chuckled as the private relented under Jake's opposing height. Not one to play the fool, Hank observed the fat smiles Sully and Michaela wore. So life had changed once again on him while he wasn't looking. He could accept this, he thought as he strutted up behind the private, blocking his escape from Jake. Exhaling haughtily Hank watched as the thick plumes of smoke billowed down the private's bare dirty neck. "Looks like your jobs been done for yah soldier. If I was you, I'd collect my prisoners and head out."

When the stubborn man didn't move, Hank shrugged hooking his hands up under the private's arms and lifted him off the ground. Carrying him over to the front of the saloon he dumped him painfully on his feet, next to his horse.

"Fly away now birds," Hank called behind his back as he paced with prideful swagger through a crowd of onlookers, reaching the porch of the saloon. Crossing his arms over his chest, he scanned the soldiers still in the street until they hopped about collecting their horses and prisons ready to ride out. Not another word was spoken, as the shock settled in on what they had just seen. Michaela opened her mouth before shutting it once more, and turning to look at a baffled Sully. Jake only shook his head, grinning as he kissed the back of Lucy's head, while she continued to hold on to an awe struck Cloud Dancing. Brows raised he looked at Hank were he had perched his leg up on the hitching post. Hank had fulfilled his promise to Jake and then some. For a brief moment, Hank locked eyes with Cloud Dancing, and a silent understanding took place. The two men nodded to one another, like two passing warriors, until Hank winked turning back under the eaves of the saloon.

The fair private was the last to trot bitterly down the street behind the wrangled outlaws. Sully reached out grabbing the bridle of the horse. "There's three bodies out in the woods, just north of the pass, by the creek. It's the ringleader and two others. There your problem now."

He only nodded afraid to turn back and find Hank at his tail. With the passing of the army soldiers, the town seemed to collectively breathe a sigh of relief. Little by little the shadows that had reeked havoc on the quiet town retreated from the warmth of the evening light. A light breeze pitched and swirled in and around the trees, misting the air with the musky fragrances of hawthorn and wormwood. Michaela sighed finding her words as she smiled at Jake and Cloud Dancing as they tried to cheer Lucy.

"Jake," Michaela was loathe to dampen their newly heightened spirits. "I think you'd better come see Teresa."

He straightened up lightly patting Cloud Dancing's shoulder with gratitude.

"I'm right behind yah, Dr. Mike."


	25. Chapter 25

He was beginning to hate this room, Jake thought as his boot heels shuffled on the creaking planks of wood. His ankles strained awkwardly to compensate for the unforgiving tautness of the vine, which Sully had used to lace up his boots. As he inched closer to the bed, the very sight of her made him grateful for the fact that he'd left Lucy with Cloud Dancing. There was a deathly stillness to her body, which caused his heart to wrench itself up into his throat. Jake swallowed hard unconsciously cuffing his neck in his hand. Dr. Mike's assurances rang boldly through out his mind boosting his body to sit down on the edge of the bed.

The delicate brown tint of her skin had paled dramatically, since he'd left. Running his finger gingerly along her once plump rosy lips, he felt the hard creases of healing. The long purple bruises that wound about her slender neck had begun to fade into painful yellowish hues. Her hair lay in ruffled ribbons, splayed about her, black as a raven under the midnight sky. Jake smiled longingly at this, recalling their wedding night.

How he'd taken his time gently unpinning each glossy tress, enjoying the satin texture. She had been beautifully shy, trying to hide her blushing complexion as she turned her back to him. Running his fingers through her sable hair, it cascaded down her back and over her shoulders. He'd plunged his hands into that inky blackness parting it over her shoulders, revealing the tiny satin cushioned buttons, which ran in a line from her neck along her spine down to the small of her back. Fingers trembling against the deliciously arduous task, he was halfway down her lovely bare back, before he'd lost what little was left of his control. Grabbing the two open ends of the dress in his hands Jake shredded the fabric in two, freeing her exquisite form.

Teresa gasped sucking in her breath as his palms pressed warmly around the cinch of her bare waist, his lips brushing along the back of her neck. Jake's heart was beating wildly in his chest, as he'd held her to him, reaching with his maddening hands around her sides, finding the soft slope of her stomach. His fingers took their time exploring the silken suppleness of her skin as it stretched over her ribcage. Then sliding back down the curved slopes of her sides, he'd exhaled in complete euphoria at the way her hips bowed like the lines of an hourglass. It was then that her head fell back on his chest, bringing with it the intoxicating scent of roses. Jake huffed with pleasure as her hand flew up sliding behind his neck. Teresa's fingers plunged up into the thick tufts of his auburn mane, gently taking hold as he continued his exploration of her body. He could have died in that moment Jake thought closing his eyes.

"Jake?" her voice nipped at his ears frail as a dried leaf on the wind.

He fell effortlessly from that memory at her weak beckoning. Jake leaned forward over her on the bed. Burying his upper arms under her shoulders, he pressed his lips to the top of her forehead. Jake smiled feeling the gentle flutter of her thick lashes against his cheek. Pulling back slightly so as not to crush her, he sighed with relief as she watched him with her deep dark amber eyes. The corners of her mouth tinged themselves up into a frail smile. Then all at once, that smile faded and her entire countenance formed with that of worry. But Jake shook his head freeing one hand to gently stroke the side of her face. "She's down stairs, safe. Not a scratch on her."

Teresa's body relaxed back into the yielding cradle of her bed. Her fingers reached gingerly up to the side of his head lightly taking notice of the spindling black corded sutures hidden under his autumn tufts. He caught her hand kissing the palm with a smile, "Dr. Mike just stitched me up before I came in."

Their fingers mingled taking pleasure in the feeling and warmth of caressing one another. Finally growing tired, she held his palm flat against her belly, once again fighting her malaise in order to smile. Jake tried to push his worries behind him as he imagined the tiny spark of life thriving inside his wonderful wife. Jake Slicker's mind raced with wonder at the thought, 'his **children **were safe.' His beautiful wife was in his arms and once again, he wondered if he could die from happiness.

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***Don't forget to come back for the epilogue! You know you want to know! ;)**


	26. Chapter 26

**Epilogue**

The winter wind misted the air with the hue of icicles, dampening every tree, and field of turning grass. Bare of there usual cloaked emerald boughs the trees stretched out with their spindled gray fingers over the twisting path. Every notch and crevice of bark, glittered with diamond dusted splendor, created by the icy frost which had collected. The bright steely sky shifted crisply with the pure white wafts of the clouds as they crowded their woolen blanket. Bright and covered in hues of white, gray, and silver, the winter day illuminated the world around them.

Cloud Dancing's horse continued down the naturally worn lane, trotting without hurry or expectation. His back arched forward and his arms bowed around the living parcel seeking warmth within the front of his large flax colored coat. One small gloved hand appeared, parting the opening of the coat just enough, to pop her bonnet-less head out. Her tiny pink tongue stuck out of her open mouth straining to lick at the chilled breeze. "Grampaw, I can almost taste the snow coming!"

Cloud Dancing smiled using one hand to tuck the coat up under her chin. "There will be no snow. Only frost young one. . . . There I see the house through the trees."

Lucy's eyes brighten with excitement as she squinted through the glittering giants at the people milling about the terrace of her home. Their laughter echoed and laced throughout the frosted woods creating such warmth, Lucy thought the ice may melt. Although, she had only been away for two day's after her Mama's large belly began to ache, she'd missed her parents deeply. Even housed in the closed barbershop with her grandfather, telling her the eerie tale of how the white buffalo had protected Sully, had not sated her longing to be near her parents. Her nose twitched up in the air sniffing out the strengthening scent of Cuban tobacco, as the horses hooves clomped against the stone walk that led up to the house.

Hank leaned forward with his arms resting on the terrace rail, allowing billowing waves of smoke to rise up out of his mouth. He smiled cheerfully as Loren mumbled something crudely, while he haughtily held his own cigar up to his grinning lips. Finally with the horse brought adjacent to house, Lucy craned her neck, as Cloud Dancing took hold of her and brought them both safely from the animal. From around the side of the house she heard Katie's laughter as she and Mathew rounded the corner waving to her and Cloud Dancing.

No longer able to contain her excited curiosity, Lucy bounded through the door passed Sully and nearly crashing into Michaela's skirts. "Quietly Lucy!" Dr. Mike's voice called with a hushed whisper as she climbed the stairs.

The upstairs was quietly peaceful as she slowed her pace, yanking off her gloves, and shoving them into her coat pocket. Lingering close to what was once her bedroom, she listened to the soft voices of her parents, through the agape door. Her father's voice cooed gently, under her mother's sleepy laughter. Lucy closed her eyes taking comfort in the underlying sound of her new sibling as it gurgled sweetly back at her father. The polished mahogany planks of the floorboards creaked under her shifting feet, bringing silence into the room.

"Lucinda," he called making her entire body radiate with love.

How very different her room appeared to her now, as she looked about, ignoring for the moment the wicker bassinette. The windows were laced with pale blue drapes, which allowed just enough light into the small room. Where once her writing desk had stood, now was her mother reclined serenely in the curve-backed rocking chair, which had been down in the front parlor. The opposite wall which had harbored the head of her bed, now rested a dressing table topped with a brown stuffed bear, folded quilted afghans of every shade of blue and cream, and a scattered assortment of rattles, dolls, and nappy lint's. Just as she was, about to take notice of her father's powder blue wing backed chair, she felt his hands reach up under her arms. He lifted her up until she could wrap one arm around his neck, and her legs around his torso. With a sigh she took in the scent of him, leather, delicate notes of Old Spice, and the faint scent of cigar smoke. Jake's finger gently caressed her check as she kissed the line of his jaw before leaning her head close to his face.

"Yah ready tah meet someone?" he asked bringing her close to the bassinette, so that she could peer down at the animated form.

Lucy watched in wonder, at the tiny baby as it opened and closed its toothless mouth. Momentarily, she shifted her gaze between her mother's deflated stomach and the small alabaster creature in front of her. There were willowy wisps of autumn strands crowning the infant's round little face. And the lips pursed like two pink petals, as it babbled unintelligibly to no one in particular. Lucy furrowed her brow, cocking her head questioningly until the infant opened its eyes and stared directly at her. Deeply sable mahogany eyes, encircled in a ring of black, peered up big and round through a feathery curtain of light brown lashes. Lucy sucked in her breath, "Like Mama."

"This is your little sister Isabelle," Jake beamed leaning down closer so Lucy could touch her hair. Her fingers lightly petted the silken strands of crimson which mixed and blended into darker shades of auburn and highlighted with faint solitary strands of gold.

"After your grandmother Isabelle, my mother," Teresa whispered weakly from the cradled comforts of her chair. She smiled contently watching Jake holding Lucy in his arms, as he blissfully adored his new daughter.

"I'm gonna call her Izzy," Lucy smiled fatly at her mother as she drifted off into a much needed sleep.

"Izzy it is," Jake felt his heart was about to burst. Another silver cord had formed creating a brilliant web that connected them all. The world was changing once again, further rooting him into the ground. Briefly, Jake saw the old him standing sheepishly in his mind's eye. There was nothing left for that man anymore, he thought willing that tainted form to whither and fade into the abyss. Ever so lightly, there was the sound of swishing moccasin feet on the creaking hardwood floor. Jake smiled holding Lucy to him as he straightened up. His free arm reached out welcoming Cloud Dancing as he neared the bassinette.

"Your new granddaughter," Jake mused patting him on the back.

Cloud Dancing touched his finger to the tiny white palm of her hand. The tiny little fingers clamped shut around the tip, as if to show him she accepted him unconditionally. His heart melted as he committed everything to memory, so he could relay it to Sully and Michaela later. How the world had shifted beneath his feet. Truly, the spirits were blessing him for he never would have thought his path would lead him to this. "It is a wonder, is it not? That a man can find this much joy again."

Jake smiled at this, "it sure is."

From down stairs the sounds of laughter and merriment rose up, warming the house against the cold of the winter month. Sully and Michaela nestled close to the hearth of the blazing fire, as Mathew and Katie watched Hank and Loren from the parlor window. The two huddled close sharing from Hank's whiskey flask, as they sang, anchored to the terrace rail. As there voices rose on the wind, the raucous melody faded and died, before the winter breeze could reach the town. Colorado Springs was all at once at peace again.

**The End**

**(for now)**


End file.
